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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623181">The Front Page</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/TheJaggedQuill'>TheJaggedQuill (maraudersgirl47)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>But he's 18, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deadpool being Deadpool, Deadpool's correct, Everybody Lives, Identity Reveal, M/M, Peter Parker has at least 6 over-protective father figures, Peter Parker is still in High School, That's why i've taken liberty with quite a few, Timeline's are confusing, because reasons, because you know, slight angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:16:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/TheJaggedQuill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Spider-Man and Deadpool were hanging from one of Peter’s webs, high above the streets below. Spider-Man had the arm not swinging them through the city cinched firmly around Deadpool’s waist holding him close. Deadpool’s arms were likewise tight around Spider-Man and their faces were meeting right there on the page in crisp clear colour – </p><p>“I mean, can it even be called a kiss if you’re both wearing masks?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Deadpool/Spider-man, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peter Parker/Wade Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>670</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter One</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In all honesty this began as a lot of rambling to explore characters I've never written for before. It developed some plot and some good old sexy times along the way so please, join me and let me know what you think.</p><p>Deadpool thought boxes: [White, bracketed like this] {Yellow, bracketed like this}</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mortified. Peter couldn’t think of a better word for it. It was humiliating, horrifying and Peter could feel an ever-increasing level of panic bubbling up within him – This was <em>very</em> not good.</p><p>Ned was rambling, pacing around Peter’s room and waving around the front page of the newspaper in front of him. Chuckling – Ned actually had the audacity to chuckle at a time like this. Peter didn’t understand how anyone could be laughing right now – there was nothing remotely entertaining here. He snatched for the page, proving just how shaken he was when Ned was able to avoid the grab with a simple sidestep.</p><p>This was <em>bad</em>.</p><p>Peter was going to be in so much trouble. His phone started buzzing (again) and Peter quickly declined the fifth unanswered call with Tony Stark’s name flashing up at him.</p><p>Tony was going to kill him. There was no question about it. He was going to throw him out of The Avengers and <em>kill </em>him. Then probably somehow resurrect him (Peter was sure the genius could figure it out) and kill him again.</p><p>And things had been going so well too.</p><p>Peter dropped himself onto the edge of his bed and hung his head in his hands trying to remember how to breathe.</p><p>He felt Ned pause in front of him, “You okay?”</p><p>A strained, slightly hysterical, laugh made it’s way out of Peter’s mouth. He looked back up at Ned.</p><p>The front page was hanging by Ned’s side but it seemed to be staring straight at him. Taunting him. The front page with a damn near crystal clear image – and not for the first time the logical side of his brain marvelled at how someone even got the damn shot – of Spider-Man and Deadpool –</p><p>“I don’t think it’s as bad as you think it is - ” Ned started but was cut off by another one of Peter’s broken sounds.</p><p>Spider-Man and Deadpool. Sure they’d been front-page news before - had to be over a year now since they’d been teaming up and fighting crime - and the papers had insisted on making it a big deal for sometime. Even though Peter completely denied to Deadpool, to this day, that what they did was a ‘team-up’. Just because he knew it annoyed the Red-Leather-Clad man and it was one of the few ways he knew to get under the merc’s skin. Even if they both knew it was total bullshit.</p><p>But this was a different kind of front page.</p><p>The bold headline <strong>Love In The Air </strong>seemed to flash at him, mocking him as his eyes trailed over the image below.</p><p>Spider-Man and Deadpool were hanging from one of Peter’s webs, high above the streets below (that had to be twenty stories at <em>least, </em>how did they get the <em>shot?!</em>) Spider-Man had the arm not swinging them through the city cinched firmly around Deadpool’s waist holding him close. Deadpool’s arms were likewise tight around Spider-Man and their faces were meeting right there on the page in crisp clear colour –</p><p>“I mean, can it even be called a kiss if you’re both wearing masks?” Ned was looking at Peter with a new level of concern. Maybe Peter’s face was reflecting how unwell he felt.</p><p>Peter glared at him, reaching for his buzzing phone and declining yet another call.</p><p>“They always say you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers! I mean who even reads the Bugle? It’s just a picture Peter. It’s not like there’s a couple of thousand words underneath the picture apparently detailing your love for an insane anti-hero -” Ned faltered, “Okay, so you’re not ready to joke about it yet. That’s cool, man.”</p><p>Ned came and plopped himself next to Peter, tossing the paper on the bed carelessly. Peter glared at it. How could he let this happen? The wider populace had marginally accepted him swinging around Queens with Deadpool’s help. He had a feeling this would land decidedly worse.</p><p>“You know…” Ned started slowly, “Most people won’t even believe the pic right? Just think it’s one of those freak angle shots that makes it look like something’s happening that isn’t?”</p><p>Peter took a deep breath, looking across at Ned and hesitantly said, “You know it’s exactly what it looks like, right?”</p><p>Ned chuckled softly, “Of course <em>I </em>know. I’m the man in the chair <em>and</em> your best friend. Nothing gets past me,” he puffed up his chest importantly. Peter puffed out a small amount of air that he would refuse to admit was anything close to a happy sound. Not while he was in such turmoil. “It’s not as big of a deal as you think Peter.”</p><p>Peter’s phone started buzzing for the umpteenth time and Peter held it up to show Ned as if it was proof that this was very much a big deal thank you very much. He pressed decline, determinedly not looking at the number <em>7 </em>now blinking next to Tony’s name.</p><p>“Maybe Mr Stark’s calling about something else?” Ned shrugged, not being helpful at all in Peter’s opinion. “Lucky May’s out of town at least. She won’t see the Bugle down on her sunny holiday.”</p><p>Peter groaned and flopped back onto his bed, hiding his face in his hands. “Yeah, great, at least my Aunt won’t have to go through the process of murdering me since Tony will have already done it for her.” Peter’s voice was slightly muffled between the gaps of his fingers. “She might even thank him. ‘Thanks Mr Stark for taking care of my insane nephew who swings around the neighbourhood in a damn spider costume and thinks it’s a good idea to hang out with uncontrollable madmen who’s name he doesn’t even know -”</p><p>“Only cause you’re too courteous to look it up -”</p><p>“He was really getting out of hand, so thanks for taking care of that for me -”</p><p>“You’re Aunt’s not going to want to kill you -”</p><p>“I didn’t know what I was going to do with him. I mean the danger is one thing, the blatant disregard for human life another -”</p><p>“Now you’re just being dramatic - ”</p><p>Peter sat up quickly, leaned around Ned and snatched the paper up, brandishing it about, “There is a picture of me making-out with a man who has Katanas and an innumerable amount of guns strapped to his body on the front page of one of the most well read papers in New York City. I think I’ve earned a little drama.”</p><p>Ned gingerly took the now crinkled paper out of Peter’s grasp, and spoke slowly, “First of all, technically, it’s not you on the front page, it’s Spider-Man. Secondly, I don’t think you can call it ‘making-out’ when both parties are wearing masks.” Ned pressed on quickly as Peter opened his mouth to protest. “And finally, I really think you need to answer that.”</p><p>Ned pointed to Peter’s phone that was vibrating on its spot on the bed. They both looked down to it and Peter snorted. This time it was Steve’s name glowing up at them, the Captain America shield highlighting the background. Peter could literally imagine the conversation that had taken place at Avengers Tower, Tony pestering Steve to ring on his behalf because Peter was declining all his calls.</p><p>“Peter, they’re probably just worried.”</p><p>“Because me swinging around the city with a murdering lunatic is not good for image?”</p><p>Ned huffed as he got back to his feet, eyes rolling to the ceiling, “Yes Peter, that’s totally it. They couldn’t possibly care that you might not be personally ok after having such an intimate thing plastered across the city.” Ned made his way to the door, “I’ve got to go, got that damn physics assignment to finish. I’d ask for your help, but I don’t think you’re going to be that helpful. You’ll be okay Peter. <em>This</em> isn’t actually the end of the world. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” Peter reluctantly nodded as Ned grabbed his bag, “And Peter, answer your phone.”</p><p>As if on cue Peter’s phone restarted it’s incessant buzzing. Steve’s name yet again plastered across the screen. He waited until he heard Ned leave the apartment before picking up the vibrating device, resisting the strong urge to simply toss it out the window he slid the answer icon across the screen.</p><p>“Hey Cap, what’s up?” Peter tried for nonchalant and missed by about ten thousand miles.</p><p>He heard Steve laugh on the other end of the line, “Hey, you’re not dead! That’s great to know because I have a supposed genius bouncing off tower walls over here and you’d think you were at least in some kind of mortal peril.”</p><p>Peter was saved the trouble of immediately responding as he heard some kind of struggle through the phone, “Give me the phone Steve -”</p><p>“No I’m not going to -, Tony get off me -”</p><p>“Give me -”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>“Fine, you tell the little shit that when I call him he is to answer his damn phone -”</p><p>Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. The two men’s voices were becoming softer and louder as if they were physically struggling over the handset.</p><p>“Oh, I wonder why he didn’t pick up.”</p><p>“And tell him that we need to have some serious conversations.”</p><p>“Tony! Get off! I <em>will </em>throw your ass across the room.”</p><p>“I’m going around there -”</p><p>“You are not -”</p><p>There were some indiscernible sounds from the earpiece for a few seconds, time in which Peter could only assume words were exchanged (or people were being thrown across rooms), because when Steve’s voice returned he sounded decidedly alone.</p><p>“You there kid?”</p><p>“Mmmhmm,” Peter’s own voice seemed to be trying to vacate the premises, “How mad is he?”</p><p>He heard Steve sigh deeply, “He’s not mad at you exactly -” Peter scoffed. “Okay he’s a little off kilter. But I think he’s actually just worried about you.”</p><p>“Why is everyone suddenly so worried about me?”</p><p>“Do you really need me to answer that?”</p><p>“‘Spose not,” Peter mumbled, eyes dropping to the crumpled paper still on his bed. He swore if inanimate objects were capable of winking that’s exactly what that newspaper was doing to him right now.</p><p>“We’re having dinner night tonight. Everyone’s coming, you better be here. Or else I won’t be responsible for how Tony will track you down.”</p><p>“He won’t want me there.”</p><p>Steve was silent for a few beats before continuing, “Peter, please listen to me because I’m going to be honest and I want you to hear everything I have to say – not for you to just take some samples and get lost in your head with your own conclusions, alright?”</p><p>Peter nodded before remembering he was on the phone and that was useless, “Yeah.”</p><p>“Tony, well all of us really, always had reservations about you teaming up with Deadpool. You know that, we told you that. But just like we told you then it was nothing about you. It was about him. I don’t know how much you know -” Steve stopped, took a breath, re-evaluated, “We don’t want you to get hurt. And we all know you are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions but we worry.”</p><p>Peter couldn’t help the edge of humour that entered his tone, “Oh my god Cap, you sound so serious. It’s one, not even that, kiss. It’s not like we’re dating.” Steve was silent on the other end of the line. “Crap, is that what you guys think this is?” Peter could feel the panic that had momentarily abated start to rear its ugly head again. “You and Tony think I’m dating a psychopath -”</p><p>“Dinner. Tonight Peter. Don’t be late. Because there will be a search party.”</p><p>Steve didn’t give him a chance to answer, the call disconnected and Peter was left standing in his room quite unsure with what to do with himself. He tossed his phone onto his desk and flopped himself face first onto his mattress.</p><p>He felt the damn front-page article become trapped between his t-shirt and the blankets beneath him and he groaned.</p><p>Stupid article. Stupid photographer (again <em>how?!</em>). Stupid Tony and Steve. Stupid Deadpool because he probably had known damn well what he’d been doing and now basically the whole of New York City thought Spider-Man and him were a ‘thing’.</p><p>Just because teaming up had become more of a habit than a necessity didn’t mean anything. And the fact that they’d stopped hanging out just to deal with bad guys six months ago was of no consequence. And just because Peter for some insane reason enjoyed the inane chatter and the over confident company and the take-out and that one time at the Cineplex where they had received <em>a lot </em>of strange looks because of course they were in their uniforms –</p><p>Peter sat up very quickly, heart racing, he snatched the paper out from under him and stared at the picture wide-eyed, a piercing thought slicing its way through him.</p><p>Stupid Peter for maybe being the very last one to realise Spider-Man was totally dating Deadpool.</p><p> </p><p>*-*-*-*</p><p> </p><p>This was officially the best day of Wade Winston Wilson’s life. And he would swear to that on whatever it was you wanted him to swear to that on.</p><p>[Like a bible? What else do people swear on?]</p><p>{Loved ones generally. Sometimes ones that are already dead, which makes little to no sense when you think about it}</p><p>His life, up to this moment, full of great moments as I’m sure you’re all aware –</p><p>[Great moments?]</p><p>{Fucking horror show more like}</p><p>Finally topped by one brilliant spectacle that would eclipse all other moments from now until the moment someone inevitably found a way to keep him dead –</p><p>[They’re probably working on that as we speak]</p><p>{Good start, nice and morbid, keep it coming}</p><p>Wade held up that day’s edition of the Daily Bugle, beaming at the front page as if it were his most prized possession. “We’re totally going to get this framed. I need more copies. One for every room of the apartment <em>and</em> enough for all my other apartments,” Wade gasped excitedly, “Holy shit we need to blow up the image, make it huge -”</p><p>[Subtlety, always a strong suit]</p><p>{Huge? Going to need some enhancement there if you catch my drift}</p><p>“You sound too pleased with yourself. Therefore I don’t want to know what’s happening,” Al ambled past him into the kitchen reaching for the coffee pot.</p><p>“But Al this is officially the best day of my life, as previously stated, and if you’re ass wasn’t blind you would already be in complete understanding and total agreement.”</p><p>Al ignored him, moving her way back to the couch with her fresh cup.</p><p>[How long till you think he realises this is actually going to be up there with the worst day of his life?]</p><p>{I give him five minutes}</p><p>“It’s official, the Bugle says so, so it must be true.”</p><p>{Actually make that two minutes}</p><p>“Spidey loves Deadpool. That’s me. See it’s right there in black and white and all forms of technicolour with that beautiful image. Us. Swinging round town. Catching crooks. Being all around awesome. I’m going to make Weasel hang this above the bar, it’ll look great.”</p><p>{Thirty seconds}</p><p>“He didn’t even drop me after I kissed him,” with masks? Does that count? Someone needs to answer that. “And look how cute we are together. Love is in the air, damn straight it is.” Wade’s gaze trailed past the image and his eyes scanned the subheading underneath and his marvellous bubble of glee burst faster than the most untouched virgin.</p><p>{There it is}</p><p>[Yes you were right, reward?]</p><p>{Maybe later}</p><p>
  <strong>Dangerous and Deranged. Think it’s time for somebody to save Spider-Man.</strong>
</p><p>Wade scanned the actual article for the first time, being too hung up previously with the bloody gorgeous image, even if he did say so himself. And his mood sunk to new lows. Words like dangerous, deranged, psychopath, unbalanced, murderer and criminal were just a few phrases that took the opportunity to make themselves known very blatantly broadcast across the page. So maybe this didn’t quite read as well as one could hope for.</p><p>
  <em>‘Spider-Man, known to many as the local neighbourhood hero, has been seen with this vagrant unstable mutant before and the nation has given him a pass. We at the Bugle would have that pass firmly terminated as of today. The vigilante’s of this city should not get to decide which criminals are brought to justice -’ ‘- When do they become criminals themselves -’ ‘- Spider-Man should be held accountable -’ ‘- danger to society -’</em>
</p><p>Fuck. Webs was going to kill him.</p><p>[If you’re lucky]</p><p>{Ha! He’s never going to come close enough to speak to you again. Never mind close enough to kill you}</p><p>“Wade, you still there? You’ve been quiet for too long.”</p><p>Wade resisted the urge to tear the paper into a million trillion tiny little pieces, instead took out the gun he had loosely holstered in the back of his sweats and fired three rounds into the nearest wall.</p><p>“Jesus H Christ!” Al exclaimed loudly, her fresh cup of coffee ending up mostly over the couch, “Is it too much to warn a woman?”</p><p>“I’m going out,” Wade tucked the gun back into his pants, grabbed a hoodie and dragged it roughly over his head. “Far too sober for this shit,” he muttered slamming the door on his way out and leaving Al to shake her head and attempt to clean up.</p><p>Wade walked to Sister Margaret’s even though the establishment wasn’t what one would call within ‘walking distance’. He trudged through the streets, hood up, hands deep in his pockets, and too lost in his own ridiculous brain to take notice of the usual stares that came simply from being out in public.</p><p>What had he been <em>thinking</em>?</p><p>[Thinking? Ha. There’s a laugh]</p><p>{Thinking how you could possibly fuck up absolutely everything in one single moment? And might I say, you’ve done a fucking spectacular job of that}</p><p>He’d always been bad for Spidey’s rep. Wade had known that from the start and so had Spidey, and the fact that it hadn’t fucking worried him all that time ago had been bloody life changing. Originally they’d fought crime together, that had been it, and they did it <em>well</em>. Spider-Man didn’t need help. Deadpool didn’t need help -</p><p>{Yes you do}</p><p>[That’s not what he means]</p><p>- but somehow they managed to fight damn well together. It was better. Easier. It became a habit. The sitting on rooftops together eating bad take-out, joking and all in all enjoying each others company came later. That probably happened for Spider-Man all the time but for Wade it was nearly unique -</p><p>{Because you’re batshit crazy and no one can put up with your shit?}</p><p>[Shhh. Let him monologue]</p><p>- they just kind of clicked. Sometimes shit got heavy, they’d been through a lot. Spidey especially. Wade had been left out of ‘the snap’ scenario but that was some intense baggage shit right there. But when he’d come home he went back to patrolling the streets of Queens and who would Wade be if he wasn’t there to back him up.</p><p>So when Spider-Man flung himself off a rooftop to catch him, even though both of them knew it wasn’t strictly necessary (sure the pavement hurt, but bones healed) and swung him to safety Wade could surely be forgiven for saying thanks with a bit of mouth-on-mouth (through a small barrier) action.</p><p>[You most certainly should not be forgiven]</p><p>{Fucking perv}</p><p>How was he to know that it was going to be plastered across the front page of the most read newspaper in New York City and Spidey’s name twined with his own would be dragged through the mud, spat out and fucking heaved back in.</p><p>[You should know better than to expect nice things]</p><p>God, he’d ruined the best thing in his life in the matter of seconds and he hadn’t even done it properly.</p><p>{I’ll reiterate for those of you not paying attention. <em>Fucking Perv</em>}</p><p>It was midday by the time he reached Sister Margaret’s and he’d thrown himself such a pity party by then that he felt like he deserved to be no place better than the Hell House. The place was empty of cliental, usual for the middle of the day. Weasel was at the bar, receipts lined up all along the counter and calculator positioned accordingly. Dopinder was cleaning glasses, far off look in his eyes, day dreaming about – something Wade actually didn’t want to think about.</p><p>Wade dropped himself dramatically into the stool in front of Weasel and barely received a glance for his efforts. “Alcohol. All the alcohol.”</p><p>“It’s end of month,” Weasel stated, pointing to the work laid out in front of him, “Pay your tab.”</p><p>Wade gave the most overdramatic sigh he could muster as he dug his wallet out of the one deep pocket in the back of his sweats. He tossed the whole thing at Weasel, “Take whatever you want.”</p><p>“What’s the matter with you? You seem extra melancholy today,” Weasel dug around in Wade’s wallet pulling out all the cash, raising his eyes when Wade made no move to stop him even though that was a good couple of hundred bucks too much.</p><p>Wade reached behind himself and pulled the gun out of his waistband, tossing that to Weasel too. Weasel fumbled with the weapon as if it were a live grenade.</p><p>“Can you shoot me? It might work if you do it.” Wade let blissful optimism colour his tone.</p><p>“And here I thought you’d be throwing a parade. You and your boyfriend made the paper!”</p><p>Weasel pointed above the bar and just as any good friend would have done he’d stuck an oversized image of that day’s paper smack bang in the middle of the panelling. Wade groaned and in a completely over the top performance –</p><p>[Drama queen]</p><p>{Fucking moron}</p><p>Slid off his barstool onto the floor, thumping his head back against the bar with enough force that glasses rattled and bottles chinked.</p><p>“Bad morning?”</p><p>“Thought I asked you for alcohol,” Wade snapped back in way of reply.</p><p>A bottle of clear liquid dangled itself over the counter above Wade’s head and the mercenary snagged it quickly, unscrewing the lid and taking a few long draughts of the contents without even bothering to glance at the label. It only burnt slightly. So, gin then. Nothing fancy. </p><p>Dopinder made his way round to the front of the counter, holding a broom so he could at least pretend to be sweeping if Wade fucked him off too quickly. “What’s the go DP? We thought you’d be pumped with your new relationship status.” </p><p>[He was till he remembered about that little thing called reality] </p><p>{Go on; tell them how much of a fucking idiot you are}</p><p>Wade, uncharacteristically, forwent words, taking a couple more large gulps of his gin as an excuse for silence. </p><p>“Spider-boy not happy with the publicity?” Weasel asked, peering cautiously over the countertop. Wade had thrown one gun at him but that didn’t mean he didn’t have another. </p><p>“Who would be?” Wade muttered bitterly. </p><p>“Dopinder have you been to check that stock we got this morning?” Weasel suddenly snapped at the other man. </p><p>“No, but -" </p><p>“There will be no ‘buts' in my bar, go now, before I fire your undeserving self.” </p><p>Dopinder stumped out muttering about unfair working conditions, slamming the door between the storeroom and the main room as he went. Weasel made his way round to the front of the bar. He moved a stool out of his way and slid down next to Wade, resting his back against the bar he had his own bottle of liquor in his hands. </p><p>“You’re too harsh on him.” </p><p>Weasel chuckled, “and you’re not?”</p><p>“He expects it from me.”</p><p>“Why because you’ve got a trademark on asshole?” </p><p>“Yep,” the p popped in a poor imitation of Wade’s usual upbeat tone. </p><p>[That’s true, but at least you know you’re an asshole] </p><p>{Asshole - don’t think that’s a strong enough turn of phrase. How about monstrous cu-}</p><p>“Arghh shut up!” Wade hit himself over the back of his head.</p><p>“Don’t do that,” Weasel reached out to grab Wades wrist as he made another attempt at a self-hit. </p><p>“The voices -"</p><p>Weasel refused to let him go until he put his hand back in his lap, for a man severely adverse to pain he had no sense of self-preservation. Wade could snap him like a twig.</p><p>[But you won’t]</p><p>{Pussy}</p><p>“So what? Spider-boy didn’t take it well?” </p><p>“Don’t call him that.”</p><p>“You call him that.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Weasel rolled his eyes, not that Wade would look at him, he was decidedly looking at his mottled fingers wrapped around the glass cradled in his hands. “What did he tell you to fuck off or something? No one’s worth it Wade. Man, woman, none of them.” </p><p>[Oh look at that, Weasel trying to make us feel all better. We like Weasel]</p><p>{Go on; tell him how now you’re even <em>more</em> of an idiot}</p><p>“Not exactly...”</p><p>“Not exactly what?” Weasel watched as Wade drank. Contemplatively he continued, “You haven’t spoken to him have you? You’re just having your own internal crisis again.”</p><p>“Fuck you, my crisis' are always warranted.” </p><p>“‘Cept when they’re not.” </p><p>[Rude]</p><p>{This conversation is getting us nowhere. Just kill him}</p><p>“How about you go talk to him. The rest of New York is having the conversation you might as well get in on it.” </p><p>“How am I meant to do that, he normally doesn’t just show up during the day and besides I think he’ll be avoiding me like the plague -" </p><p>“Show up? You don’t have his number? Fuck Wade. When you kept spouting that shit about not knowing who Spider-Man was I thought that was all talk for the drongos in the bar. Are you seriously telling me the two of you have been flipping about the city for over a year and you don’t actually know each other?” </p><p>“Does that make it better or worse that I molested him on camera.”</p><p>Weasel pushed himself to his feet, “Fuck you’re dumb.”</p><p>Wade scoffed.</p><p>{There’s that no self preservation thing again}</p><p>[Stop blatantly ignoring your own stupidity]</p><p>Weasel extended an arm down to Wade and when Wade grabbed hold he pulled him to his feet. If Wade had a normal body, in any sense of the word, the half bottle of gin – he finally skimmed the label, Aviation –</p><p>[RE: insert shameless promotional plug here]</p><p>- he’d drunk would have had him stumbling, as it was his head didn’t even spin.</p><p>“Sometimes things aren’t as terrible as you think Wade.”</p><p>“Um wrong!” Wade exclaimed dramatically, “In my experience things are just as bad as they seem if not ten million times worse.”</p><p>Weasel shook his head, “We’ll see.” Wade felt the bottle of gin being plied out of his grasp. “While you’re figuring out how to let the universe swallow you whole how about you help me balance the books. You start the gun tags while I finish the alcohol stock.” </p><p>Wade couldn’t be bothered arguing. He grabbed the couple of journals Weasel was pressing into his hands, Dopinder re-entering the room behind them, “All the stock’s there Mr Weasel.”</p><p>“Lucky for you.”</p><p>Wade sat back at his stool, settling himself in for what would probably be an afternoon of constant bickering. Without his permission Wade’s eyes flicked up to the image that was still above him. </p><p>Fuck why did that picture have to look so goddamn hot. </p><p>[Because the man of your dreams is literally ticking all the boxes]</p><p>{Too bad for you it doesn’t mean anything}</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first time writing and posting anything in forever! Also, this is my first time writing for most of these characters so kudos, comments, thoughts and constructive criticism are greatly welcomed. Please let me know what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Very slight trigger warning; Wade spends some time standing on the ledge of a very tall building.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes Peter just couldn’t help but marvel at what his life had become. Not only the improbability of it but the <em>impossibility</em> of it all.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If anyone would have told him when he was a child that sometime after his fourteenth birthday he would be bitten by a radioactive spider that gave him superpowers he wouldn’t have believed them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If they had of told him that having those powers would inevitably lead him down a winding path that ended with him sitting at the head of a luxuriously long table in one of the highest floors of The Avengers Tower surrounded by literal superhero's (and Gods, let’s not forget about those) having what could only be described as a family dinner, he would have laughed himself silly. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yet here he was.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Watching as Natasha and Sam bickered about some television show they were both watching, and how unrealistic it was (yes, really). While at the other end of the table Thor was having a very heated and confused conversation with Clint and Rhodey about what was and wasn’t acceptable to put on top of a pizza. Loki was watching them with a bored expression but Peter was fairly certain he was actually trying to follow the absurd reasoning.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wanda and Vision had wandered out to the balcony some time ago, not long after Scott had excused himself because he had a bedtime story to read to one little girl. Bruce who was halfway down the long piece of mahogany had pulled out a StarkPad and was tapping away at it, a furrow in his brow clearly trying and failing to explain something to Valkyrie. He glanced up, caught Peters eye, and smiled. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tony was seated directly to Peter’s right talking to Steve, who was opposite him, about a mission they’d wrapped up a couple of days back. Something wasn’t sitting right with Tony. Steve was trying to reason that it might be because Tony hadn’t slept the previous two nights because he’d been too busy with his latest ‘toys’ down in his workshop. Strange had reiterated again to him tonight; all was fine.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bucky was leaning against Steve’s arm, Peter had actually thought the soldier was sleeping until he caught the man watching him from behind his hair. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter tried not to squirm in his seat even as he felt Bucky avert his eyes. They’d all pointedly not spoken about that day’s newspaper article, every single one of them, and Peter didn’t know if that was worse than being completely bombarded.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was getting anxious. It almost felt as if he was waiting for a bomb to go off. He was sure it was Steve’s doing, he must have told them to take it easy on him but he had no idea how he’d convinced Tony to not broach the subject at all. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m going to check those figures again. I just don’t trust the sudden change in the atmospheric levels.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But they went back to normal, isn’t that a good thing?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Not that quickly, not so suddenly without implications.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Whatever you say Tony, check again. Though Strange says its fine, so it’s probably fine." Steve shrugged, the movement slight enough so it didn’t jostle the man resting against him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter glanced back at said man and noticed he was being watched again. It wasn’t a harsh glance, more considering, curious. Peter couldn’t fathom what he’d done to interest the Winter Soldier; it made him a little nervous. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Uh-huh! So there are exceptions!” Thor exclaimed loudly from the other end of the table, beer bottle hitting probably harder than was necessary next to his long since empty plate, he sounded quite proud of himself. They all turned to see Clint looking quite concerned as to how he’d gotten himself into such a conversation with the God of Thunder.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Loki, seemingly tired of whatever that discussion had turned into, rose from his seat and sauntered up to their end of the table. He seated himself in the empty place next to Tony, picking up a half empty bottle of red wine the tech genius had been sharing around earlier and poured himself a glass, refilling Tony’s while he was at it. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Are you still on about Montana, Stark? Let it go,” Loki drank with a smirk, as Tony made no attempt to hide his eye roll at being united against. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Steve nodded as if that somehow settled the matter. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s your brother arguing about?” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Nothing consequential,” Loki’s long fingers tapped against his glass. “I thought you lot might have something more interesting to talk about.” His eyes flicked to Peter noticeably. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The bottom dropped out of Peter’s stomach. Oh God. Of course Loki would turn into the explosive he’d been waiting for. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve said pointedly, glaring at Loki with gritted teeth. Peter was sure if there weren’t so many legs under the table the Captain would have attempted to kick the mischievous smirk off the man’s pointed features. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tony had gone very still, seeming unsure whether that was permission to start asking Peter questions. Bucky finally straightened in his chair, clearing his throat and turning his bright eyes upon Loki. Something seemed to pass silently between them and Peter had the most insane thought flit through his mind. Were they..? Were Bucky and Loki going to stick up for him? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tony seemed to be having similar thoughts because the man who usually wasn’t hesitant to start any kind of conversation didn’t seem to know where to begin. He glanced at the God beside him before starting carefully,  “Peter...” he seemed to change his mind and in more traditional fashion dove straight in. “Peter are you dating Deadpool?” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter attempted a laugh that became completely obliterated in his throat. Wishing the room would swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to have this inevitable conversation, Peter spluttered, “Dating? What is this, high school?” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You <em>are</em> in high school,” Tony said slowly as if Peter had somehow forgotten this. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As no one else seemed about to speak Peter began to stammer, “No. Look, <em>no</em>, okay? It’s not like that. We hang out and he helps me with crime around the city. Which you all have known about since it started happening. That picture was a one-time thing. A poorly timed one-time thing, apparently. Besides if he was dating anyone he’d be dating Spider-Man not me -" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You <em>are</em> Spider-Man,” Tony said as if he was actually concerned for Peter’s brain. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well he doesn’t know that,” Peter said casually and he received four frowns in return. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He doesn’t know who you are?” Loki said softly, recovering the fastest. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter shook his head. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tony had closed his eyes as if searching for patience, “Pete -" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter decided he couldn’t do this. Didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to hear the disappointment in Tony’s voice as he lectured him about how hanging out with a known mercenary wasn’t good for him. Or how apparently not telling that mercenary who he was under the mask was somehow worse? Judging by the look on Tony’s face? Which didn’t even make sense. So, nope! He simply wasn’t going to do it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter pushed himself up harshly from the table, “I’ve got to go. School tomorrow,” he didn’t mean for his tone to sound as sarcastic as it did. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Peter we just want to talk to you about this,” Steve tried but Peter was already halfway across the room.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter slammed the elevator button and was bathed in relief when the doors opened immediately. He'd pressed for the ground floor and the doors were slipping closed again before Tony and Steve had even risen completely from their seats. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter dropped his head into his hands and tried to breathe at a normal rate as the elevator began its decent through the many floors of the tower. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He felt unexplainably upset. And angry. Fuck he was angry. Why was he so mad? Because he had friends like Tony and Steve who actually gave a crap about him? People who wanted to make sure he was okay? Or was he pissed off because their questions were going to be perfectly reasonable and he wouldn’t be able to answer a single one of them? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He’d fallen for a man he primarily knew nothing about. How stupid could you get?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was an absolute idiot. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter punched the wall of the elevator. Hard.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Fuck,” Peter moaned clutching at his hand. He looked with surprise at the elevator wall, he hadn’t even left a dint, and his hand bloody hurt. “What the hell did Tony make this building out of?” Peter muttered bitterly to himself. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Materials much stronger than steel, Mr Parker.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter rolled his eyes to the ceiling, “Gee thanks FRIDAY.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter was relieved when the elevator reached the ground floor with a resolute ding. He stepped out of the confined space, giving his hand a bit of a shake to try and remove the pain from his knuckles. He took two steps across the foyer before he saw that the level wasn’t empty.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“How did you do that?” he asked the man standing in front of him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bucky smirked, waving a nonchalant hand to where Loki was leaning against a wall. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Teleportation is cheating,” Peter told them firmly, arms coming to settle across his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what this was. “You going to drag me back up there?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bucky gave a soft laugh, “Heaven no. I’m not that cruel.” He hesitated, there was a manila envelope with the Avengers emblem stamped across the front tucked under his arm, the metal one, and Peter couldn’t be anything but curious. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, try and keep in mind we’re all just looking out for you.” Peter nodded slowly and Bucky continued, “I also realise this is none of my business so you’re free to tell me to fuck off at any point." </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter gave him a hesitant smile, prodding him to go on.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You said up there Deadpool doesn’t know who you are. Would I be correct in assuming you don’t know who he is either?” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What would make you think that?” Peter couldn’t help his defensive tone. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I just think it would be very on brand for him.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter glanced at Loki who was watching them silently. Before realising, “Do you know him?” he asked Bucky quickly. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I know of him,” Bucky seemed to choose his next words carefully, “There are a countless number of mercenaries in this world Peter. Few of them are actually any good at it.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Like you were.” Peter felt a stab of regret at the bluntness in his tone and pressed on quickly, “He’s good at it?” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You could say that.” Bucky hesitated again, “But you already know that.” He held out the envelope he had to Peter.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s this?” Peter asked, taking the somewhat thick parcel almost gingerly. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What you don’t know." Peter looked at him questioningly, a protest on his lips, Bucky held up a hand to stall him. “This information isn’t secret Peter and you could have very easily found it yourself, which means you didn’t want to go looking. I understand that. But you deserve to know. You should know. There’s nothing in this file that you probably haven’t already guessed at.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I don’t want -" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“There’s nothing in there that will change your mind about him,” Loki spoke quietly from his wall. “But it’s always wise to be armed with all the information.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter felt a heat rise to his cheeks, “ I...”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bucky shook his head, “We’re not here for your explanations. You don’t owe them to anybody. We’re here for you. If you need us.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Why would you -?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Not exactly uncharted territory for either of us. Consider us your poster boys for the misunderstood.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Loki scoffed, “Speak for yourself.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bucky rolled his eyes before looking at Peter solidly, “I also know how difficult Tony and Steve both can be -" </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Understatement,” Loki muttered.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“- But they care about you greatly. They’ll respect you and your choices no matter what.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Peter turned the envelope over in his hands, his mind rapidly bouncing from one thought to the next. Before today he hadn’t even realised the full extent of the relationship that had been building between himself and Deadpool. And now the bloody Winter Soldier and the God of Mischief (of all people) were standing before him with knowing eyes and the naivety Peter felt was somehow even more embarrassing than being grilled by Tony - </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“And, also, if my information is correct – and I know it is – you need to be prepared for the whirlwind that actually is Deadpool.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">*-*-*-*</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade whistled as the gunshot shattered the air of silence. The bullet whipped through open space and hit its target before the dirty (figuratively and literally) arms dealer knew what hit him. And he’d never be getting back up to find out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Thought you were leaving some of these bastards for the cops these days]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{There is no fun in that. Shoot another one}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Guns were on him and firing before he could completely make an effort for cover. A couple of bullets connected with his shoulder as he unloaded an entire clip into three of the men closest to him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Now that’s just wasting ammunition]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Worth it}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Bodies fell heavily to the ground, accompanied by the clatter of over the arm machine guns as shells continued to fly, “Over here boys!” Wade called teasingly as men scattered and blundered their way around trying to defend against him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade hadn’t set out that evening with a specific plan. He’d donned his red leather, amassed his weapons and set out into the brisk night air with naught a thought of trouble on his innocent mind.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It wasn’t his fault that he happened to wander down past the docks – that <em>everyone </em>knew were shady as fuck – and it wasn’t his fault that he just happened to come upon an arms deal occurring right there in his very city. He couldn’t let that slide. It simply wasn’t his fault.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Anyone buying this bullshit?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{I think he would have lost the last few of them at ‘innocent’}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Yes, that was a stretch too far]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Nothing wrong with admitting you wanted to blow some random heads off}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[There’s plenty wrong with that]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Not from where I’m sitting. Wilson, on your left!}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><em>Click </em>. The sound of the hammer hitting an empty chamber was always unfortunate. The man to Wade’s left seized his opportunity and sent five rounds quick-fire into his chest. Deadpool laughed, tossing his own now pointless gun aside and raised his clenched hands, “Fists it is.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade steadily worked his way through the gang of around a dozen men. He took his time, handling the scene with ease as man after idiot man kept coming for him. Bodies dropped, bones broke, skin was sliced as the yard become increasingly flooded with a nice stream of carnage.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Let’s see you survive this!” The last fool standing screeched from behind the MG42 he’d just finished setting up. Wade pulled a knife from his belt and threw it into the man’s skull before he had a chance to let off a single round.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[MG42’s? A little overkill for a dockyard scrap isn’t it?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade looked around himself taking stock of the view. He might have been the one who went a little overkill. There wasn’t a movement, not even a twitch.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{No overkill. Perfect execution. If I had hands I would applaud}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade crouched down; his breathing that had become ragged while he worked finding it’s way back down to a usual level. Reaching a gloved hand up to his shoulder he dug his fingers into his own broken skin and gouged for the bullet he could feel lodged somewhere between sinew and bone. He dug out the slug and it clinked to the ground. He wiped his wet and sticky hand along a leg that was already covered in blood and he groaned in dismay. He’d definitely have to wash his suit.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He could hear sirens in the distance and he was sure they’d be coming closer. He shouldn’t be found here –</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[You think?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{We could always continue this along with some charming officers of the law. I’m sure they’d have done something to deserve it}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“No more,” Wade muttered firmly.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Oh how sweet. You really think you can just put a pin in it any time you like}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The sirens were getting louder.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Time to go]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade got back to his feet, quickly gathering the couple of guns he’d discarded as he fought. He could feel the muscle in his shoulder stitching itself back together as he stretched his arms up to re-sheath his swords. If he’d taken the opportunity to work the scene better and avoid the noise he’d have allowed himself more time and he’d have Weasel come down here and collect on the inventory. However, sirens.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade trotted out of the docks before the first flash of red and blue bounced off the night sky. He ducked down a nearby ally that he’d used on many occasions and began to climb the fire escape of a residential. The effort of hauling his healing body up onto the stairs pulled at his wounds, “Ow, fuck,” there was a nice gash running down the back of his calf he’d definitely failed to notice up till that point, the railing almost slipped out of his hand, but he clung on and dragged himself up to a steadier surface. He desired for a simpler way to get himself up to a rooftop, maybe by way of being swung through the air – “No he didn’t. He didn’t want that at all.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Liar]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Fucking fraud}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Shut-<em>up</em>.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This had been the first night he’d been out ‘on patrol’ without his faithful web-slinger in a fair amount of time when he gave it a glance of thought.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[It’s also the first night in a fair amount of time since you’ve left a pile of dead bodies in your wake]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Necessary}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Hardly]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{A craving then}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Repulsive]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade grudgingly climbed the stairs the sentiment of feeling sorry for himself increasing with every metal step he had to take.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Isn’t wallowing your default setting]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{<em>Argh</em>. Wallowing is for losers. Can’t we just continue to shoot out our feelings}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What possible reason could he have for needing to act with such a strong force of violence at a time like this?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Makes us feel better}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Does it though?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Some people do deserve to die. No denying that.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Most people. Including us, you pile of steaming shit}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Is that for us to decide? Isn’t that the old argument? One shouldn’t get to be judge, jury <em>and </em>executioner]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Arms dealers bad. Now, arms dealers dead. That’s got to equate for some kind of equilibrium balance.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[You’re back to making excuses again]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{<em>Who cares! </em>You got to shoot some people. There was a shower of blood. It was like a parade!}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">AND at least you’re not thinking about that thing you’re trying to convince yourself to not think about.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[What?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{What?}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade had made it to the roof, collapsing with his back against an air conditioner unit he dropped his head into his hands, scratching at his mask, “If only clawing my brain out of my eye sockets would shut you up!”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Don’t be an asshole]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Now I’m deliberately going to mention Spider-Man}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Why must you insist on adding to the spiral?]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Spider-Man, Spider-Man, Spider-Man -}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[It’s actually more than a spiral -]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Spider-Man who we tricked into tolerating us for an unprecedented amount of time -}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[What’s a good word for it -]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Spider-Man who we foolishly tried to better ourselves for -}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Hurricane… no… too trauma inducing right off the bat -]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Spider-Man who’s never ever going to talk to us again}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[I know! Whirlwind that’s it. Don’t encourage the whirlwind]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{*Winks* I see what you did there}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> “That is it! I’m clawing my brain out if you can’t allow me two seconds of silence, just two <em>please.</em>” Wade ripped his mask off, trying to escape the sense of drowning that seemed to be building from the base of his lungs. He dragged in a harsh gasp of air, “And you can’t wink, you’re a voice inside my head.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Watch me. And fuck you}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade went so far as to place his fingers at the base of his eye. He’d been torn in half more than once; surely prying out vital bodily organs couldn’t hurt more than that.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Okay. Maybe we need to take a moment]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{No way! No moment required. I want to see him try this}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Silence.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One beat. Two.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade took a breath. He removed his digits from his face, clenched his hand into a fist and dropped it by his side.  </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Good Deadpool]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Coward Deadpool}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade shook his head as if trying to shake off a fly. He looked to the building to his right, it was taller than his current refuge and he wanted to be higher. He wanted to see the lights of the city. The indented thrum of life.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tugging his mask back over his face he made his way across to the other building. Leaping a couple of ledges he landed awkwardly and felt his knees protest. He ignored the pang of pain - his knees could take it. The view was better from here, he could see a good half of the city, sprawling streets and towers. The extensive spread of New York unbroken from here till the darkness swallowed the horizon.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade stood on the ledge of the roof, feet just tipping over the edge in a move that would have been daring if he weren’t someone incapable of becoming a permanent pancake on the sidewalk.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He glimpsed the distinct shine of the ridiculously large ‘A’ that was plastered along the side of Avengers Tower and dropped his eyes from the view to the street below him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Man he was high – only in the literal sense of being very far away from the ground – he teetered on the ledge, hovering between some weird temptation and memory.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade closed his eyes and let the imagined sensation of falling through air consume him. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Spidey would catch him if he were to fall. He’d made something of a habit of it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Except Spidey wasn’t there.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mostly because Wade was an idiot.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">[Agreed]</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{Agreed}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade resolved to get a grip and sort his shit out. If he was going to be completely theatrical and resign himself to spend all his waking time alone at least he should allow himself the pleasure of being rejected formally.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Wade turned away from the city and put his feet firmly back on the rooftop.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thoughts? ♥</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Peter got back home he was exceptionally grateful to be arriving at an empty apartment. However, it took him a good couple of minutes to realise he’d scaled the side of the building and climbed in through his window so as not to disturb his Aunt out of complete and utter habit. </p>
<p>It had begun raining as Peter made his way from the centre of New York back down to Queens and the damp had managed to seep into his bones. He shivered, the chill prickling at his skin as he dripped onto the carpet. He needed a shower. Scalding hot. </p>
<p>As the water ran, rising to temperature, Peter scattered his clothes. He flung his jumper onto his bed and if it happened to land strategically to cover the envelope he’d been clutching since Bucky had handed it to him, well, that was just coincidence.</p>
<p>He stayed under the stream of water for a longer stretch of minutes than was generally considered acceptable, the warmth crawling under his skin and scattering away his worries. Without Aunt May home to pound on the door and remind him there would be such a thing as a water bill to pay it took great control to drag himself out of the comfort of steam. </p>
<p>Peter lightly towelled his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror he paused to inspect a bruise that had developed along his ribs - must have been from when he was thrown into those barrels the other day. He pressed gingerly at the discoloured skin, the pain was almost ignorable and he was sure the area was healing fine. </p>
<p>He found some clean sweatpants and dragged on a top to sleep in. Peter went about picking up after himself around the apartment. The few things he’d left out of place over the past three days since May had left on her - well-deserved - holiday. He placed the few bowls he had in the sink into the dishwasher, he picked up some dirty clothes and moved them to the laundry hamper, he made a fuss about making sure he had the necessary textbooks he’d need for the next days classes.</p>
<p>All in all he managed to burn the whole of ten minutes before standing back in his room, eyes trained on his bed where the envelope sat invitingly. </p>
<p>Peter sighed, leaning against his bedroom doorframe and running a hand through his still damp hair. </p>
<p>The envelope. Apparently containing answers. But what kind of answers would he find? Deadpool’s identity? Was it really so important?</p>
<p>Yes. A small but resolutely reasonable voice sounded from the back of his mind - frustratingly the voice sounded strangely similar to MJ. </p>
<p>Peter walked across his room and positioned himself on the edge of the bed, hand picking up the truly bizarre gift from the Winter Soldier and turned to slip open the seal. </p>
<p>Was this the completely logical and reasonable way to find out about somebody? The answer to that question was a resound Hell No. But this was the option currently in front of him and Peter wasn’t necessarily known for his rational self-control.  </p>
<p>Peter remembered broaching the subject of identity with Deadpool precisely once. The merc had laughed at him, telling him that he’d take his mask off for Spidey any day - but not straight after a meal such as they’d just had unless he was keen to see the food in reverse. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Besides Spider-butt, you can’t top imagination.”</em>
</p>
<p>Peter hadn’t argued with him. The one thing he did know was that Deadpool had scars; he’d caught glimpses on an injured limb here and there, and the bottom half of his face when Deadpool thought Peter hasn’t paying him too much attention and would ruck his mask up to eat some food. So Peter had been contented to never press the issue. It was a sensitive subject, even if Deadpool would explicitly deny that. Also, Peter was sure he wouldn’t live up to any expectations Deadpool had created about him. So sue them if not broaching the subject of identities, secret or not, just became another habit. </p>
<p>
  <em>“It won’t change your mind about him.”</em>
</p>
<p>Peter’s teeth toyed with his lip as he thought. Curiosity outweighed caution at this point. It was time to be honest with himself, Spider-Man and Deadpool was an alliance that wasn’t going anywhere. Peter had grown accustomed to him. No scratch that.</p>
<p>Peter needed him.</p>
<p>Peter needed more. </p>
<p>He tipped out the contents of the envelope and was lost. </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was three AM before Peter even glanced at his phone to check the hour. He cringed; he had to be out the door for school in less than four hours. </p>
<p>He was hanging above his bed, web twined from the ceiling as he dangled upside down, paper work scattered all across the top of his blankets. </p>
<p>He could say one thing for certain about Bucky Barnes. The man was thorough.   </p>
<p>What he could say about Wade Wilson was extensively a lot longer.</p>
<p>His eyes trailed over the pages beneath him. He couldn’t help rereading paragraphs, snippets, flicking back through images both of Wade and the destruction he’d both caused and been victim to.</p>
<p>This explained <em>so</em> much.</p>
<p>It had felt invasive to begin with, a horrifying impersonal move for Peter to undertake. Twenty minutes later and it felt like Deadpool - <em>Wade </em>- was seated right there beside him. He could hear him disturbingly clearly. Agreeing, disagreeing, laughing, distracting, pointing things out to Peter between the lines, leading him, showing moments that the younger man could have easily missed. It was all new information that felt hauntingly familiar. </p>
<p>Familiar because Wade had told him all this really. Between jokes there had always been buried mistakes and passing regrets. </p>
<p>Peter had always been given everything and he’d given nothing in return. Dick move Pete, real smooth. </p>
<p>Eventually Peter’s eyes began to droop, he lowered himself from his position - sleeping upside down wasn’t good for him, he’d learnt that the hard way. </p>
<p>He stacked his pile of papers neatly, slipping them back into their envelope and tossing it onto his desk. </p>
<p>Peter crawled into bed, dragging the blankets high above his head and burrowing deep. He took all his thoughts of Wade Wilson with him and clung to them tight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d overslept. Of course he’d overslept. He had barely caught three hours sleep and he was now scrambling around, shoving homework into his bag with one hand and tugging a sneaker on with the other. There was no use for it, he had that biology test first lesson and couldn’t be late for it. He tugged his mask on (grateful he hadn’t had time to bother with his hair) and slipped out his window - he’d go via rooftop.</p>
<p>Peter made it on the first bell. Having slipped onto the grounds surreptitiously via the back of the school property in an area that was relatively protected. He’d scouted the location out ages ago, you know, to use for emergencies. He would not admit that he’d used it more for his tardiness than anything else.</p>
<p>Peter was sorting his books, scrounging in his locker looking for his biology textbook that he would swear he had somewhere –</p>
<p>“Have you seen it?”</p>
<p>Peter jumped at the voice that was suddenly in his ear, Ned stuck his head out from behind the locker door and Peter glared at him for sneaking up on him.</p>
<p>“Seen what?”</p>
<p>“He hasn’t seen it,” MJ spoke from his other side and Peter jumped again. She raised her eyes sceptically at him, “What’s the matter with you, twitchy?”</p>
<p>“Didn’t sleep,” Peter muttered, giving a shout of joy as he finally laid a hand on the book he’d been searching for.</p>
<p>“Patrol?” MJ asked, there was a lilt to her tone Peter didn’t quite trust.</p>
<p>“Not exactly…” Peter closed his locker and looked to Ned. His friend’s face was pulling strange, almost as if he was attempting to keep composed. “Seen what?” he asked again.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, you can’t miss it,” MJ responded instead, wrapping a hand around both of their arms she dragged them off, “Come on, we’re going to be late.”</p>
<p>There seemed to be an accelerated level of noise in the corridors as they made there way towards the science wing. A definite uptick in laughter was certainly noticeable, something generally reserved for the very end of the week when everyone was most keen for their weekend plans. Peter had enough wits about him to get a twinge of dread. What could possibly be going on now?</p>
<p>What was going on became apparent with an obscene amount of lucidity when the three of them walked past the school’s main corridor.</p>
<p>Peter’s eyes went comically wide as Ned saved him from walking into a wall, finally letting out the burst of laughter he’d been obviously struggling to contain. “Like the junior school’s unsolicited art project?”</p>
<p>Hanging from the ceiling, and taking up a vast majority of the corridor, was an overly realistically detailed diorama of yesterday’s front-page image. Spider-Man and Deadpool in each others arms had been recreated out of what looked horribly like papier-mâché, surrounded by a lewd amount of balloons and streamers, complete with a varying range of banners that alternated from everything between ‘<strong>Congratulations</strong>’ and <strong>'Our </strong><b>Heroes' </b>to bold statements such as ‘<strong>Representation Is Important</strong>’.</p>
<p>The scene had gathered a decent amount of onlookers. Some students were milling around laughing, others were snapping pictures on their phones and admiring the work. Most teachers seemed torn with how to deal with the distraction impeding the hall, deliberating between tearing it down or merely putting a barrier around it – because really, the work was quite impressive.</p>
<p>When the shock finally drained enough for Peter to regain mobility of his extremities he snapped his mouth shut, grabbed both his best friends (who were now together openly cackling at the look on his face) and dragged them towards the biology lab.</p>
<p>As Peter dropped himself into his chair right on the second bell he tried as hard as he could to push all thoughts other than biology out of his head. He had to do well on this assessment.</p>
<p>Their teacher was detailing the instructions and as Peter flipped over his paper he resigned himself to the fact that he really needed to get photos of the 'exhibit' off someone because Wade was going to find it absolutely fucking hilarious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was after lunch when MJ finally received the opportunity Peter had not been looking forward to – a teacher and class distracted enough for her to hold a private conversation with him. MJ tilted her chair back to his desk, tapping her pen and just waited patiently until he raised his eyes. </p>
<p>The sparkling laughter that greeted him in her gaze wasn’t necessarily comforting. “So, how long have you been banging the Merc with the Mouth?”</p>
<p>Peter looked quickly back down at his work, trying to pretend he didn’t feel the heat prickling along the back of his neck. He muttered back to her, “No one actually calls him that.”</p>
<p>“You don’t. People do,” she said simply. “Way to avoid my question and why didn’t you tell me?” </p>
<p>“Because there’s nothing to tell,” Peter said stubbornly. </p>
<p>When Ned dragged his chair over to Peter’s desk to join the conversation Peter looked around for their errant teacher - was it too much to hope for order to be called because this was ridiculous. </p>
<p>“Did you know he was in a serious relationship?”</p>
<p>“I am not -” Peter started heatedly, but Ned cut him off joining in on the joke. </p>
<p>“Nope. He didn’t tell me either.” </p>
<p>“You’d think something like that would be something you’d tell your two best friends,” MJ continued with a smirk.</p>
<p>“Maybe I would’ve if there was anything to tell -" </p>
<p>“See I’d believe you if this wasn’t a man that you barely shut up about.”</p>
<p>“That’s not true,” Pater hastened as he felt the heat from his neck begin to flush his face. </p>
<p>“Front page of the Bugle, if you don’t consider that serious I am curious to see what you do consider serious.” </p>
<p>“It’s not like I took the picture!” </p>
<p>“You sure he didn’t?” </p>
<p>Peter chose to ignore that particular comment, since he had briefly entertained the thought himself and concluded that it wasn’t possible. </p>
<p>Probably. </p>
<p>“Hey what’s this?” </p>
<p>Peter moved inhumanly fast and snatched his backpack out of Ned’s reach. “It’s nothing,” Peter said, stuffing the envelope Ned had been reaching for further into his bag. It was the embellished ‘A’ that had justifiably probably caught Ned’s attention; he was always captivated whenever Peter received Intel from the team. He didn’t even know that the Wade parcel was in there; he must have accidentally put it there when he was scrambling for his homework that morning. </p>
<p>He looked up to see two pairs of eyes pointedly raised.  MJ's face had gone from one of laughter to one of business and Peter knew he was done for. </p>
<p>“Are you two together?”</p>
<p>“No -"</p>
<p>“So you don’t make a habit of this?”</p>
<p>“<em>No</em> -"</p>
<p>“My God, it wasn’t your first kiss was it?”</p>
<p>“Does it really count as a kiss if we were both wearing masks?” Peter ignored the hand toss he saw in Ned’s direction as he stole his previous line of reasoning.</p>
<p>“It most certainly does count,” the excitement rolling off her was palpable and Peter found it almost contagious. “Although that means you still get to have a first normal kiss -" </p>
<p>“Trust me, none of this is normal.” </p>
<p>“- When do you think that will be? What does he say about all this anyway?”</p>
<p>Peter paused, “That’s assuming a lot.”</p>
<p>“Meaning?”</p>
<p>“Meaning they haven’t discussed any of this,” Ned chimed in unhelpfully.  </p>
<p>“Meaning, I don’t think Deadpool is one to do serious relationships," Peter said firmly, his voice low, "And he probably wouldn’t even want to be with me when he finds out who I am even if he did,” his own resignation hit him harder than he was expecting. </p>
<p>MJ hit him round the back of the head. </p>
<p>“OW!” Peter exclaimed in shock more than actual pain.</p>
<p>“How can someone be a practical genius and such an idiot at the same time?” She asked him incredulously. </p>
<p>It was that moment that their teacher finally called some sense of order back to the room and his two friends turned back to their own desks, MJ’s eyes promising that this conversation wasn’t over.</p>
<p>Peter wondered if he’d ever get to talk to the one person he actually wanted to speak to about this, instead of everyone else in his life. He rubbed the back of his head as he tried to focus back on his work. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was nothing as satisfying as a food truck taco before a bout of kicking ass. Or after a bout of kicking ass. Or during. The point wasn’t the timing, the point was the taco. It was wonderful. Blissful. Granted, one could be suckered in to perusing other food item options from the food truck but you only tended to make that mistake once. At least the taco wasn’t as deadly as the hot dog. But if you had a superhuman metabolism that saved you from more than the casual food poisoning one needn’t worry unnecessarily- no? Just him, Wade W Wilson, with that bizarre ability? Huh. Interesting. </p>
<p>[Imagine being that invested in a portion of shit street food that the object of all your other waking moments swings past without you even noticing]</p>
<p>“You watch you’re mouth, being able to consume unhealthy amounts of this food is basically the only perk of having superpowers.”</p>
<p>{Fuck you’re dense}</p>
<p>Wade finished his food but didn’t move from the street corner where he’d taken up position at just up from midtown. He returned the high-five from a passing man - hey look! Made that guy’s day - as he contemplated his surroundings. And no, he didn’t find it unusual for him to be hanging about in his suit at four in the afternoon on a weekday, talking to only himself, without a wisp of a specific plan. </p>
<p>[You have a very specific plan] </p>
<p>{If not a very sound one}</p>
<p>[And if I might reiterate, Spider-Man passed overhead about sixty seconds ago]</p>
<p>“WHAT! Why didn’t you say anything?!” </p>
<p>[I did, you tw- . You know what, it’s pointless arguing with you. Up fifty-second on your right]</p>
<p>Wade set off at a light jog -</p>
<p>{A hasty sprint}</p>
<p> - <em>a light jog</em> that lead him up fifty-second, down a side street and through an ally till he turned the corner and found what he was looking for. </p>
<p>Spidey was alone, crouched down and fiddling with his bag. Wade was only able to notice the slight shift in his shoulders, a stiffness, because he’d become so accustomed to every move his body made. Fighting alongside someone taught you those tricks -</p>
<p>[Fighting alongside?]</p>
<p>{Surely it has nothing to do with how you openly ogle him at all angles every chance you get}</p>
<p>- There was never ever really an eliminate of surprise when it came to sneaking up on Spider-Man anyway. </p>
<p>“Webs! Baby boy. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”</p>
<p>The tension in Spidey disappeared immediately as he raised himself to his feet, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. “Oh really?” The scepticism was blunt. “Looked like you were eating tacos.” </p>
<p>Wade scoffed, his brilliant air of innocence wavering as Spidey walked his way towards him, “I got you some.” </p>
<p>Spidey stopped right before him, looking around in an over-exaggerated manor before tilting his head up the required amount to meat Deadpool’s masked eyes. “And you ate them.”</p>
<p>Wade slapped a hand to his chest in horror, “I would never -”</p>
<p>“Yes you would,” Spidey laughed. </p>
<p>He sounded generally good-natured. Normal. Wade felt a notable niggle of surprise at the familiar tone. </p>
<p>[Don’t get your hopes up. He’s just going to let you down easy that’s all] </p>
<p>The shorter man pushed at his shoulder teasingly - hard enough that mere mortals would fall on their behinds sure, but they both knew Deadpool could take it. “Ass,” Spidey told him sternly, but there was a distinct grin under the fabric covering his face.</p>
<p>{Oh he’s gonna do worse than let you down easy. He’s gonna give you false hope first}</p>
<p>“Pray tell, why were you so eager to find me?” </p>
<p>“Don’t know if you noticed, someone’s been spreading dreadful lies about you,” Wade kept his tone light, “Absolutely awful things, questioning your self control, besmirching your virtue.” </p>
<p>Spidey laughed again, “Everyone should know you’re the only one who’s allowed to do that.”</p>
<p>Wade baulked in surprise. “Someone needs to pay for these accusations.”</p>
<p>“Any ideas?”</p>
<p>“None that I think you’ll approve of.”</p>
<p>Spidey hung his head, his gaze dropping away, “It’s been a very conflicting string of hours. Try me, you might be surprised.”</p>
<p>Wade hesitated. Very slowly, slow enough that even someone without reflexes as impressive as Spider-Man’s would have a million moments to move away, Wade placed a gloved hand under Spidey’s chin and tilted his head back up, “I’ll be honest, baby boy, you’re taking this a might better than I expected.”</p>
<p>“Peter.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You have a hundred and one nicknames for me and it never seemed entirely necessary but it’s Peter. Me. My name. Peter.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t mean you have to use it, but there it is.”</p>
<p>[What?]</p>
<p>“I wanted you to know.”</p>
<p>{What?}</p>
<p>“Peter Parker.”</p>
<p>[As far as telling someone to fuck off out of your life goes, that isn’t the most conventional way to start]</p>
<p>“Doesn’t mean you have to stop calling me Webs,” Spidey - <em>Peter</em>, holy <em>fuck</em> - continued quickly, there was a lilt of panic intruding it’s way into his voice.</p>
<p>{You’ve never once been quiet for this long in your life. Say something you idiot} </p>
<p>“Is baby boy off the table?” Wade mentally slapped himself, belatedly realising his hand was still loosely tucked under Peter’s chin. He dropped his arm away, moving to step back from Spidey’s personal space while he tried to reboot his brain. </p>
<p>[Smooth]</p>
<p>{Way to dial up the creep}</p>
<p>“Negotiations could be made.”</p>
<p>Wade was saved the trouble of pinching himself to check to see if this was all a highly realistic dream – he didn’t remember getting into the cocaine again – by the sound of gunfire, swiftly followed by the sound of civilians screaming. </p>
<p>“That’s our cue,” Peter was off up the ally, almost to the corner before he flicked his head back over his shoulder to see a completely immobile Deadpool. He trotted back, curled his hand around Wade’s arm and tugged him into motion, “Come on Wilson, we got things to do, people to help. We’ll have plenty of time to deal with this,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “later.” </p>
<p>There was another round of gunfire and it pulled Wade out of the recesses of his mind and he was automatically following Spider-Man out of their secluded alleyway and into a spray of bullets. </p>
<p>It wasn’t until he was already disarming a thug that he realised Spider-Man had called him Wilson.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a basic bank smash and grab. Guys who thought that all it took to be intimidating was a loaded gun pointed towards some young dame’s head. They’d managed to grab a fair amount of cash before Spider-Man and Deadpool made their entrance. </p>
<p>It was short work.</p>
<p>Wade disarmed the men whose shitty outlook on life had led them here while Webs checked the civilians for injuries. They were easy enough to detain, a couple of broken bones not withstanding and Wade had them penned into the very cages they’d been in the process of raiding.</p>
<p>“You sit tight in there boys, the men in uniform will be with you momentarily,” Deadpool closed the partition with a loud clank. He made a fuss of dusting his hands clean as he made his way back to his Spidey, the bank was a general level of chaos, “All good out here Webs?”</p>
<p>Spider-Man was kneeling beside one of the women the asshole men had trained their guns on, she seemed to be coming back round from an initial state of panic, her breathing returning to normal. She was spluttering an amount of thanks as Spidey left her in the arms of what appeared to be a friend and he waved her words off as he trotted back to Deadpool.</p>
<p>“We’re good. You leave any for the uniforms?” Spidey stopped at Deadpool’s side, nodding his head back the way Wade had just come.</p>
<p>“Baby boy you wound me,” Wade feigned horror, “Look, I never even un-holstered my guns - the metal weapon-y ones anyway.” </p>
<p>Spidey -, Peter (man that’s weird), decidedly ignoring all the people still scrambling around them reached out and rested a hand on Wade’s belt, his fingers reaching for his gun holster, as if he couldn’t just check with his eyes, “Well what do you know, that’s a first.”</p>
<p>‘Not the only first apparently’, was on the tip of Wade’s tongue as Spidey seemed to have forgotten they were surrounded by people, half of who probably had cameras trained on them, and he could have sworn the shorter man was curling his fingers into his belt about to do <em>what </em>he couldn’t say -</p>
<p>The gunshot exploded through the room inviting a new chorus of screams. Screams that Wade didn’t hear as he looked down and saw a shower of blood. The crimson was splashed across his stomach, his hands reaching to stem the flow, but something wasn’t right. There was no pain and that was a lot of blood -</p>
<p>“Wade -,” </p>
<p>Spidey’s voice was faint. Wade’s gaze fell from the wide shocked whites of Spider-Man’s mask to the hole torn through the side of his body. </p>
<p>Wade managed to catch Peter just before he hit the ground. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the cliffhanger at the end of the previous chapter, hope I'll make it up to you eventually! Your comments/kudos are amazing. Thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, not good, shit,” blood was gushing from under Wade’s hands, “What do I do? Fuck,” he was trying to put pressure onto Peter’s side, “Jesus Christ that’s too much blood,” onto the side where there was a hole where there DEFINITELY SHOULDN’T BE ONE! “<em>FUCK!</em>” </p>
<p>[No bullet should be able to do that -]</p>
<p>{Not to the Spider-suit -} </p>
<p>There were more people in the bank than there had been. The civilians were scrambling worse than before as police officers finally arrived at the scene. </p>
<p>[He’s bleeding too much -]</p>
<p>{That will kill him -}</p>
<p>“You’re not helping,” Wade panted through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>He glanced up in enough time to see uniformed men disarm the one woman he’d missed - how could he have been so stupid - others were beginning to make their way towards him and Spidey’s spot on the ground. They had their hands on their guns, ready to draw at him -</p>
<p>[You’re covered in Spider-Man’s blood -]</p>
<p>{Run before -}</p>
<p>Wade felt a hand close tightly around his arm and he looked down at the man beneath him, panic clearing as he heard Spidey’s resolute voice, “Wade, get me out of here.”</p>
<p>He didn’t think, blindly following Spidey’s instruction. He removed his hands from the wound - trying to ignore the fresh pulse of crimson he saw - tucked one arm under Spidey’s knees and the other around his back, hoisting him up bridal style. The fact that Spidey had enough strength to throw an arm around his neck and hold on gave him stability. </p>
<p>He was outside of the building before anyone could stop them, a severely wounded Spider-Man clutched tightly in his arms and he paused on the pavement -</p>
<p>“No hospitals,” the man huffed out at him as if reading his mind.</p>
<p>“We got to get you somewhere -,” Wade continued down the street, ignoring all the people turning to stare at them.</p>
<p>“No hospitals,” he reiterated. But his voice wasn’t as solid as the first time and a part of Wade deeply wanted to ignore him.</p>
<p>“Stark then -”</p>
<p>“No. Just take me somewhere safe.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if you realise how bad you’re hurt,” Wade persisted; he could feel the blood coated onto his gloves. </p>
<p>[Take him to a hospital] </p>
<p>“I’ll be okay, I’ll heal.” </p>
<p>{He’s wrong}</p>
<p>“I don’t -“</p>
<p>“Grab my backpack would you, it’s on the side of the building up here -”</p>
<p>The fact that Spidey had begun to sound delirious wasn’t helpful.</p>
<p>“Trust me Wade, somewhere safe, please.” </p>
<p>In that moment he discovered that the sound of his own name falling from Spider-Man’s mouth would be capable of making him do anything. </p>
<p>He held onto him tight, swung Peter’s bag onto his back and headed for his closest apartment. </p>
<p>[You’re a fool]</p>
<p>{He’s going to die in your arms}</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The closest of Wade’s apartments was the one he used most when he wasn’t staying with Al. The building was fairly rundown but those were the best kinds - people were more inclined to keep to themselves this side of town. So it went unnoticed when Deadpool carried a wounded Spider-Man up multiple flights of stairs to a tenth level apartment. No one stuck their heads out of doors as Deadpool kicked discarded debris out of his way in hallways and they were undisturbed as Deadpool leaned Spidey against the wall next to his apartment door so he could scrounge for his keys in the many pockets on his belt. </p>
<p>Peter was sliding concernedly down the wall when Wade reached for him again. </p>
<p>“I got you,” he said into his ear, picking him back up, “Webs, you with me?” Wade panicked when he felt a new limpness to the body in his arms, “Peter?” </p>
<p>Wade was quick to slam the door behind them, rushing into the apartment, hastily looking for somewhere to lay the man in his arms. He placed him onto the table that was near the kitchen, knocking the few gun parts he had on top to the floor and slipping Peter’s bag from his shoulders. Spidey was immobile on the surface, Wade’s panic intensified as his head lolled to the side. </p>
<p>“Webs?” Wade ran his hands along the still body, grateful when there wasn’t a new shower of blood from the wound in his side, but otherwise quite distressed at the lack of response. “You got to talk to me man,” nothing, Wade couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, “Peter?!” Wade moved the man’s head, fingers plying around his neck, searching for a pulse. “This is ridiculous,” Wade groaned to himself, “Please forgive me,” he told the motionless body beneath him as he tucked his fingers under the man’s mask and tugged it off. </p>
<p>The wave of fresh air seemed to do the trick and Wade could visibly see as Peter took a shuddering breath in and his chest began to rise and fall. </p>
<p>It was good that Spidey was capable of breathing on his own because all of Wade’s higher brain functions had come to a grinding holt. </p>
<p>It had been one hell of a day. If anyone had of mentioned to Wade that morning that he would find himself right here; Spider-Man, man of his dreams and wakeful moments alike, unmasked in front of him for the very first time bleeding out on his kitchen table, he would of told them to go fuck themselves – and not in the good way. As it is, here he was, Spidey unmasked, blood everywhere and holy fuck he’s just a <em>kid </em>-</p>
<p>[Don’t focus on that now]</p>
<p>{He’s going to be a very dead kid if you don’t get help}</p>
<p>“Stark. Stark will help,” Wade told himself firmly, he reached for Peter’s bag, unceremoniously tipping its contents over the floor. Between the papers and books Wade bent and snatched up the cell phone he’d been hoping for. “Come on there has to be some kind of distress signal on this thing -”</p>
<p>“Deadpool?” Wade’s eyes snapped to Peter, relief flooded him when he saw distinct recognition filling the boy’s gaze. “Is that my mask?” Peter was squinting at the fabric still clutched in one of Wade’s hands. </p>
<p>Wade couldn’t answer that question. “I need you to unlock your phone, call Stark. You need a doctor.”</p>
<p>“Tony’s not that kind of doctor,” Peter said, as if that was the point at all. “No, Wade -”</p>
<p>“Peter fucking hell -”</p>
<p>“You’re freaking out.” </p>
<p>“Of course I’m freaking out!” Wade exclaimed.</p>
<p>[You told us your name!] </p>
<p>“You got shot!”</p>
<p>{We <em>let you</em> get shot!}</p>
<p>“You’re going to bloody die in front of me and you’re just a goddamn kid!”  </p>
<p>Peter grabbed for Wade’s pacing form, hand clutching tight around his wrist and stilling him. “I need you to not freak out more about my face than the actual very present wound in my side, okay?” Peter continued, cutting off Wade’s coming protest. “I don’t need you to call Tony. I will heal. Not as fast as you but fast enough. I just need you to clean me up a bit.”</p>
<p>“Spidey I can’t -”</p>
<p>“Yes, yes you can. You know how to clean and dress a wound. I can’t go to a hospital because I’m Spider-Man. I can’t call Tony because I’m still pretty sure he wants to kill me at the moment and this won’t help. So that leaves you.” Peter’s grip was beginning to slacken from the hold he had on Wade’s wrist, “I need you to do this. Please Wade.”</p>
<p>Wade was caught in Peter’s gaze, which was stubbornly steady, surprising considering he was paler than any person had the right to be, still fucking bleeding everywhere -</p>
<p>“Okay, don’t move, let me get some stuff.”</p>
<p>Peter’s head clunked back onto the wood of the table and he gave a laugh of relief, “Like I’m going anywhere.”</p>
<p>[You doing whatever he asks is going to become a serious problem very quickly]</p>
<p>{Pathetic. What else do we expect?}</p>
<p>Wade hurried about the apartment, grabbing clean towels, a bottle of antiseptic and his sewing kit. He dumped his supplies on the portion of table that wasn’t covered with Spidey or his still fresh blood. Snagging a bottle of liquor from a cabinet he unscrewed it and pressed it into the boy’s hands. “Drink - this’ll hurt and that’ll help.” </p>
<p>Peter nodded and Deadpool set to work.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took him close to an hour before he was satisfied with the wound and Wade finished securing a bandage (shredded sheet) around Peter’s waist. Peter had passed out some twenty minutes prior, but his breathing had remained even and Wade thought (optimistically) his body was merely trying to recuperate. </p>
<p>Very carefully, almost gingerly, Wade picked up the unconscious form from the table and carried him into the adjacent bedroom. He set him gently on top of the covers of his unmade bed and tried to relax.</p>
<p>[All the times you imagined Spider-Man in your bed not once did it look like this]</p>
<p>{Unconscious from severe blood loss, how kinky}</p>
<p>Wade didn’t even have the energy to tell them to shut up. </p>
<p>He exited the room – Spidey’s limp and broken form searing itself into his minds eye – and faced the main area. The mess was almost as confronting as the injury had been.</p>
<p>Wade set to cleaning up. </p>
<p>He decided quickly that there was no point in trying to save the towels and sheets he’d used to stem the flow of blood. Grabbing a black garbage bag he scooped up the wet supplies and shoved them out of sight. He tossed the needles he’d used into the sink to sterilise and he dug out a bottle of pure ethanol to start scrubbing the table with. </p>
<p>[Might be easier to just buy a new table] </p>
<p>{Keep the table. A nice constant reminder of how you nearly got Spider-Man killed will be good for you} </p>
<p>He got another bag for Spidey’s suit. It was damaged but some parts were probably salvageable. There were also very interesting shrapnel shards littered through the frayed material that would need closer inspection from someone more intelligent than he felt right now. </p>
<p>Wade left a bucket in the sink, turning the tap as hot as possible and allowing the water to run. He bent to the pile of mess he’d made when he upended Peter’s bag, finally pulling his gloves off he tossed them aside with his mask.</p>
<p>[Yes, try not to get too much blood all over the boy’s <em>schoolwork</em>]</p>
<p>{Can’t believe you’ve been lusting after a child this whole time}</p>
<p>[Child seems a bit extreme]</p>
<p>{You always thought he sounded young}</p>
<p>[Not <em>that</em> young] </p>
<p>{You wouldn’t care one way or the other} </p>
<p>[That’s a Midtown Tech emblem, so at least he’s in high school]</p>
<p>{Yes, use that to justify your depravity} </p>
<p>[At least he’s still alive]</p>
<p>{No thanks to you. Last time you’ll be given perp control}</p>
<p>[You should never have been allowed any sense of control]</p>
<p>{No comments from the gallery?} </p>
<p>[He knows we’re right] </p>
<p>Wade had gone very still, not engaging with the voices bouncing around his head as he stared at the image he’d just picked up from amongst Spider-Man’s belongings. </p>
<p>It was him. Not him now, but some Ryan Reynolds looking motherfucker who was all but a distant memory. Wade looked down at the papers still littering the ground, there was an envelope that had half it’s contents spilling out it’s opening that looked decidedly less like schoolwork and more like a military report. He pulled out the paperwork and felt his skin crawl.</p>
<p>It was everything. That became apparent as he rifled through the ream of pages. It was Wade Wilson. It was Deadpool. It was everything from being for hire around New York and further to Weapon X -</p>
<p>The sound of water hitting the floor grabbed Wade’s attention. He got to his feet and went quickly to the overflowing bucket still in the sink. “Shit -” Wade shut off the water with a shaking hand. He gripped the edge of bench to steady himself, the fact that he’d managed to make more mess was overshadowed by what he’d just found. </p>
<p>[Suppose that explains why he miraculously started calling you Wade Wilson today]</p>
<p>{The kid knows <em>everything</em>}</p>
<p>Wade felt ill.</p>
<p>[Took him long enough to look into you really] </p>
<p>{<em>Spider-Man</em> knows <em>everything</em>}</p>
<p>Wade thought he was going to be sick. </p>
<p>[Probably why he came looking for you today]</p>
<p>{Going to put you in cuffs and throw you to his real friends}</p>
<p>Wade dropped back to his hands and knees, stacking the papers haphazardly and forcing them back into their envelope. If he put it all away quick enough maybe it would be like never seeing it in the first place. He wished he hadn’t seen. He couldn’t believe Peter had seen this, seen this and -</p>
<p>[And what? Still shown up to you today?]</p>
<p>{Interesting that} </p>
<p>[Found this information out - go looking for it, like any actual sane person would - and not allow it to define you?] </p>
<p>{Wow. It’s almost like you’re dealing with a well-balanced human being. Everything you are not} </p>
<p>Wade slowed his movements, hands more careful as he stacked books back into Peter’s bag. He hesitantly flicked back through the information packet -</p>
<p>[At least there’s more than one image of you in there]</p>
<p>{Unpleasant to look at, as we all know you are, at least he’s not going to be under any illusions}</p>
<p>- How cold anyone see even half of what was in here and still want anything to do with him?</p>
<p>[Couldn’t tell you]</p>
<p>{Maybe he’s not as clever as we think - he does dress up like an arachnid after all}</p>
<p>
  <em>“Peter. Me. My name - Peter Parker.” </em>
</p>
<p>Wade could hear his voice. He could see his face.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I need you to do this.” </em>
</p>
<p>And he’d been given all that after Spidey had known the worst of him. </p>
<p>{I hate it when he does this}</p>
<p>[Does what?]</p>
<p>{Hope} </p>
<p>Wade put Peter’s bag and all its contents aside. </p>
<p>He had a table to clean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter woke slowly. </p>
<p>He felt groggy, sore, and he was sure he’d been dreaming about something quite pleasant. He tried to clutch at the deepness of sleep, clawed at the sensation to try and slip back under but the peace eluded him. There was definitely a disagreeable feeling in his side and as he stretched his limbs he became aware of the fact that he was on a mattress that was decidedly not his. </p>
<p>He snapped his eyes open and the panic that had teetered to the surface of his brain dissipated. </p>
<p>He was definitely in a room he’d never been in before, not necessarily a comforting thing to wake to. However the dresser he saw across the room, littered with a wide array of artefacts, had a cheery plush unicorn chiefly centred with pride. Peter huffed a laugh - he knew where he was.</p>
<p>There was light streaming in from the room’s wide window and Peter moved his gaze from the semi decent view and continued to scan his surroundings. His phone was resting on the bedside table closest to him and he reached for it - an unpleasant pain spiked through his midriff. He stopped his reach, rearranging himself so he could push himself into a sitting position and lean with his other arm. </p>
<p>His phone informed him it was 10:26 Friday morning and there were a number of messages waiting for him. A predominant amount seemed to be from MJ; Peter swiped through the conversation.</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 5:46pm     Peter are you ok?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 6:15pm     There was an article on Twitter that said Spider-Man has been shot</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 6:18pm     I know those things are mostly bogus</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 6:18pm     But Ned hasn’t heard from you either</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 8:39pm    Please let me know you’re alright</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 9:09pm    Officially starting to freak out</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thurs, 10:22pm   Peter?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fri, 8:48am          My god if you’re not in class for any other reason than death I’m going to kill you for letting me worry like this</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fri, 9:02am         Please be ok</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fri, 10:28am     Please don’t hate me for the delay. Did get shot. But am OK. Won’t make school. Will call you later</em>
</p>
<p>Peter shot off the text quickly, guilt twinging in his gut as he knew how panicked MJ and Ned would have been. Especially if there’d been an article about the bank -</p>
<p>The bank. </p>
<p>Peter looked down at himself. He was wearing only his boxers so it made it easy to see the expertly wrapped homemade bandage around his torso. He pressed gingerly at the strapping. Experimentally running his fingers around where he remembered there had been a severe amount of his blood pouring out not too long before. </p>
<p>He winced. It hurt, but he no longer felt like he was knocking at death’s door. </p>
<p>Wade had probably saved his life. Although, he pictured a hard time of convincing the other man of that. </p>
<p>Peter got to his feet carefully. He wobbled only a moment before his body become reacquainted with being upright. He took a deep breath, the air flowing smoothly through his airways, swelling his lungs and calming his mind. He was okay. </p>
<p>And he could smell bacon?</p>
<p>Peter frowned to himself, why could he smell bacon? He had fully expected to be in an empty apartment. He was sure he’d given Deadpool more than enough bullshit to deal with for one week; he’d resigned himself to probably having to track the man down and force him into a ‘real’ conversation. Had even briefly started to contemplate squatting in this place until he inevitably had to return. But was Wade cooking?</p>
<p>Peter went cautiously to the dresser before heading for the door, gingerly opening a draw he was relieved when there were only clothes inside. Peter dug around and found a zip up hoodie. He dragged it on carefully - pausing with one arm in a sleeve one arm out, breathing through a lovely bout of pain. It was too large on him but it was better than walking out there with nothing but bandages and boxer shorts. </p>
<p>Peter made his way out of the room and into the main hub of the apartment. He didn’t remember much of it from the day before asides from the table he’d been stitched up on. It was sparsely furnished, but had everything that was necessary. The table that Peter did remember was barely recognisable, barely visible really. It was laden with food. There wasn’t just bacon, there was a full assortment of cooked breakfast foods. Bacon, eggs (presented multiple ways) sausages, toast, waffles, pancakes -</p>
<p>“Webs! Thank fuck you’re alive! That’s great, really fucking a-stuff, because I didn’t know what I was going to do with all this food if you died on me,” Wade was standing in the kitchen, he was in a pair of scuffed up jeans and a t-shirt, a ridiculously frilled apron tied around the back of his neck and a spatula in his hand. “You’ve been asleep for <em>ages</em>. I only worried you’d died like six times, which I think is a fair amount of times to worry. Have a meltdown. Fuck -, whatever. I thought you might be hungry when you finally woke up so...” he waved the hand still holding the utensil vaguely around. </p>
<p>Wade continued to prattle, barely a breath between his words, “How are you feeling? Probably like you’ve had a fucking hole torn through you, stupid idiot question. Did you sleep? Are you in pain? Do you need anything? Do you want to leave? I can call you a cab. Or you can call you a cab. You know how to do that.”</p>
<p>Peter didn’t speak, letting Wade’s words flow uninhibited, taking the time to simply look.</p>
<p>“Are you hungry? I didn’t know what to make, so I made everything. You’re staring at me. That’s understandable. I am now completely regretting the ‘no mask’ decision. Fuck. It was a large decision - a mistake. There was a debate. You missed that. While you were not dying. Grateful for that by the way,” Wade was pacing from kitchen to table, moving things from place to place, almost as if he was searching for an escape route along his way. </p>
<p>Peter cut off his path; hand coming to rest against Wade’s chest so the man would come to an actual stop. </p>
<p>“Is that my jumper?” Wade asked sounding completely distracted, eyes seeming to refuse to stay on Peter for more than a second. “That’s not weird at all. My heart rate is perfectly normal. I’m going to get my mask.” </p>
<p>Peter stayed very still, hand remaining on Wade, looking up at the other man and patiently waiting until he’d inevitably stop rambling and hopefully meet his gaze. </p>
<p>“Thanks for saving my life.”</p>
<p>“I think you’re being a tad dramatic there Spiderling -”</p>
<p>Peter cut him off, “Thank you, for saving my life.” </p>
<p>Wade dropped his eyes and Peter was analytical about the high level of fear visible there. </p>
<p>“Don’t mention it. I was the one who got you shot so -”</p>
<p>Peter squinted at him, “I’m not even going to dignify that.” He stepped away, “I am going to eat all this food. Because I’m starving. And you’re going to freak out less. Okay?” </p>
<p>“Easy for you to bloody say.”</p>
<p>“How so?” Peter asked, seating himself at the table and pulling forward a plate of pancakes.</p>
<p>“Because you’re you and I’m,” Wade gestured wildly between them, “this. Actually I feel like you should be slightly - wholly - more disturbed by this entire situation. Did you lose so much blood that your brain isn’t working just yet? Do you even know where you are?”</p>
<p>Peter threw him a dark look, mouth working around his food, “Sit down and eat something Wade.” </p>
<p>Wade immediately dropped into another chair at the table. He had a momentarily silent argument with the apron still tied around him, finally managing to undo the fabric and tossing it aside. </p>
<p>Peter slid one of the plates across the table to him. “Have I mentioned how awesome you are by the way,” he spoke around another mouthful of food, “Because you’re awesome. This is very awesome.” </p>
<p>“Least I could do,” Wade muttered so low that Peter barely caught the words. </p>
<p>Peter ignored them anyway. He was used to Deadpool being self-deprecating – he wasn’t used to Wade simply existing in front of him like this – but he didn’t foresee a lengthy adjustment period. </p>
<p>“So you found that then,” Peter nodded across the room towards his backpack, some contents clearly still on display. </p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to go through your stuff. I was originally looking for your phone to call Stark. There needs to be an easier way to contact that man, he needs some kind of signal, something we could shine into the sky -”</p>
<p>“That sounds unnecessary.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s definitely worth further exploration but not currently my point.”</p>
<p>“Please don’t tell Tony he needs a shining signal, he needs no encouragement.”</p>
<p>“You found all that information about me?” Wade hastily added, “In no way was that meant to sound accusatory -”</p>
<p>“Actually it was given to me.” </p>
<p>“From the A-Team?”</p>
<p>“Kind of.”</p>
<p>“You read it?” Wade asked sceptically. </p>
<p>“I think you know me well enough to know I could never refuse something that intriguing.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure you read it?” </p>
<p>“Yeah I’m sure,” Peter chuckled, “Why?”</p>
<p>“You’re still here,” Wade stated incredulously. “It’s one thing to know about someone in hindsight, it’s another to have all their fucking crimes – in this case literal ones – laid out like a montage.” Wade watched him carefully, as if searching for a joke he couldn’t quite pinpoint. “You’re still here?”</p>
<p>Peter finished chewing the piece of bacon he had started before saying anything, “I guess it was too late.” </p>
<p>Wade continued to stare at him, searching for comprehension, “Too late for what?”</p>
<p>“Too late for anything else. I’d already fallen for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*-*-*-*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>[Hello, earth to Deadpool]</p>
<p>{Fucking Hell} </p>
<p>[Knock knock, anyone home] </p>
<p>{Oi, fuckwit}</p>
<p>[That’s just great, Spider-Man tells you he’s into you and your mouth takes <em>this</em> moment to forget how to function] </p>
<p>{New plan. Continue the silence. I’m sure anything you’d have to say would only ruin the moment} </p>
<p>“You’re just a kid.”</p>
<p>{Yep, there it is}</p>
<p>Wade felt the horrible twist to his gut as he watched a flush race across Peter’s cheekbones. He knew he was a horrible twisted human being but it had to be said. It didn’t matter how deeply dependent he’d become on Spider-Man over the past months. It didn’t matter that he’d finally seen his face and wanted him even more. He couldn’t take advantage -</p>
<p>A confused furrow creased Peter’s face, he sounded defensive, “I’m eighteen.” </p>
<p>It was akin to a damn breaking. Wade’s chair scrapped along the ground as he hastily moved from his seat to Peter’s side of the table. He stopped just shy of reaching the younger man, his heart was thumping in his chest, blood rushing in his ears, “I need you to tell me very quickly if you’re not cool with -”</p>
<p>Peter was on his feet, leaning up into Wade’s space, “Shut-up Wade.” </p>
<p>Peter kissed him. </p>
<p>Sufficiently shutting him up. </p>
<p>All of him. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PSA: I condone nothing in this chapter as responsible - or possible - actions to partake in after being recently shot (thank goodness it's fiction). There is also very little 'plot' development from here on out. You have been warned ♥</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peter was waiting for the crashing regret of reality. He was fully expecting a shove of hands to push him away. A crude curse of accusation. Maybe even a punch for his troubles.</p><p>None of which came.</p><p>What he had instead were strong arms circling around him. A hand clutching roughly into his hair. And a wet mouth pliantly eager against his own. </p><p>There was a small - minuscule really - portion of his brain trying to gain his attention, trying to tell him that maybe he should take a moment. Maybe they should talk about this first -</p><p>Peter shut that thought up with a moan as he felt Wade curl his tongue deeper into his mouth. The sound seemed to spur the taller man on, the hand in Peter’s hair tightening as the other dragged him closer -</p><p>“Ow, shit -”, Peter jerked away instinctively as pain spiked up the entire left side of his body. He clutched at his wounded side with one hand and reached for the closest thing to steady himself on with the other. That thing just happened to be the man in front of him. </p><p>Wade’s eyes were wide as he panicked, “Fuck, Pete, I’m sorry -” Peter was shaking his words off, steadying himself. “I shouldn’t have...” Wade looked torn, as if he wanted to back away from Peter with some misguided form of sensibility but couldn’t because Peter currently had a vice like grip on his arm to keep himself standing. </p><p>The small reasonable voice in Peter’s brain was back, almost snarky - <em>told you to take a moment. </em></p><p>“You alright Webs?” Peter nodded firmly. “You stay standing if I move away?” Peter nodded again, less resolutely, confusion immediately flocking to him as with his nod Wade moved out of his grip. </p><p>He took more than a step back. He walked completely out of Peter’s reach, heading across the apartment and placing himself onto the couch, which was on a whole other side of the room. </p><p>Peter opened his mouth to protest; suddenly unsure whether words like ‘where the hell do you think you’re going?’ would be too presumptuous. </p><p>Wade beat him to speech, “I think it best, Spider-Butt, if you stay on that side of the room and I stay on this side of the room.” </p><p>“What? Why?” The idea not suiting Peter’s current thought process at all. His thoughts which had currently narrowed down to wanting Deadpool back in his arms pronto, mouth preferably somewhere on his body, a few key places starting to spring to mind -</p><p>“Because otherwise I will fucking <em>break</em> you.” Wade’s voice had dropped to a literal growl and Peter’s mind spiralled into a whole new level of complete and utter certainty that that man was precisely what he wanted. </p><p>Wade was no longer looking at him. Elbows on his knees as he hung his head. </p><p>“I think you’ll find I’m pretty durable,” Peter ventured. The pain was already receding from his side, Peter was relatively sure he knew what he’d done to offend his body a few seconds ago and how to avoid (well enough) the same problem again. He took a couple of steps across the room, listening to Wade’s deep breaths as he continued, “You couldn’t break me if you tried.”</p><p>“Don’t.” there was a lilt of warning in Wade’s tone now, the challenge hanging in the air just as Peter had intended.</p><p>Peter walked a few more paces, not thrilled that Wade now seemed to be resolutely refusing to look at him. “You know, if I wasn’t used to you constantly telling me how much you’d love to get your hands on me, I’d almost think you weren’t interested.” </p><p>He stopped when he was standing in front of the older man. Peter reached out and lightly ran a hand around the curve of Wade’s ear. He watched, intrigued and now cautious, as the heavily scarred man shuddered under his touch. So, they were going to have to talk about it a bit. </p><p>“Look at me?” Peter asked, all notion of the tease gone from his voice, “Wade?” he waited for light brown eyes to flick up to his own. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Peter prodded softly. </p><p>Wade puffed out a mouthful of air; too tense for it to be a laugh, “I’m thinking how could you possibly fucking want this.” He continued before Peter could interrupt him, “You’re young. And gorgeous. And Spider-Man. And you can’t <em>want</em> this.”</p><p>“What else,” Peter stubbornly held Wade’s eyes as his face pinched in confusion, “Tell me what else is racing around your head.” </p><p>Before he had much of a chance to think about it a floodgate of words spilled out of Wade’s mouth, more like a stream of consciousness than any coherent sentences. “Fuck Webs. How much I fucking <em>want</em> you. How hard it is to not throw you down and fucking ravish you. I’ve been good - fan-fucking spectacular - when it comes to restraint. You have no idea. All those times I wanted, needed, to just take you and -, <em>god</em>. You’re always so on display, in that suit, with your ass just right there, all the time. It is not fair. And you don’t even know what you’ve been doing which is even worse. And your mouth, you run it at me, at people you’re disarming with ease and sometimes I just want to shut you up but I never want you to stop talking -”</p><p>Wade took a shuddering breath, words continuing to flow, “I’m thinking about how much I wanted before you told me your goddamn name. And then everything just fucking exploded. I knew nothing, but I knew everything important Spidey. My Spidey. And how could your bloody face be even more fucking perfect than even I imagined - and my imagination is bloody brilliant. Now I can picture you under me, clearer than ever before, I could pin you down and have you scream my name which sounds so fucking awesome out of your mouth -”</p><p>Wade abruptly stopped speaking. Peter hadn’t moved from in front of him, the position a strategic advantage as Wade noticed exactly what Peter wanted him to. There was a distinct line forming in the boxer shorts Peter had on, the thin material the only thing between Wade’s face and Peter’s rapidly hardening -</p><p>“I figured being crude might be a quicker way for you to comprehend that this,” Peter motioned from himself to Wade, “This is happening.” He pushed at Wade’s shoulder, the man seemingly in shock leaning easily into the back of the couch. Peter placed a knee either side of Wade’s own and lowered himself, blatantly straddling him, “Because we both want it.” </p><p>Peter was thrilled when there was no resistance in the kiss he pressed into Wade. Even more pleased when the other man quickly took control of it, tilting his head for easier access and running his tongue in what was fast becoming a familiar move. </p><p>“Peter,” Wade murmured against his lips, barely enough room between them even for air, never mind words, “You’re still injured.”</p><p>Peter rolled his hips experimentally. The line of his cock pressing down against Wade for the first time. Even though the other man was wearing much thicker pants Peter was sure he felt something very similar below him. “I’ll be okay.”</p><p>Wade was shaking his head even as he pressed an open mouth along the line of Peter’s jaw, “Fooling around with Spider-Man sounds just about the most wonderful thing in the world right now but, fuck Peter,” his breath hitched as Peter gave another roll of his hips, “If you need me to stop and I don’t, that will not be okay.”</p><p>Peter chuckled. He grabbed Wade’s chin and brought the man’s mouth back to his own, licking into him, drawing his tongue out and sucking it into his own mouth before swiping a wet stripe up to Wade’s ear and telling him softly, “Trust me Deadpool. Even injured I could toss you around like you weigh nothing.” Peter had to refrain from a laugh at the very audible gulping sound he heard in Wade’s throat. “If I ever don’t want you on me, you won’t be on me.” </p><p>Wade’s fingers were tight at Peter’s hips. More of a clutch than a hold. “That -” the word came out broken and Wade had to clear his throat before trying again, “that is something we will definitely be exploring.” </p><p>“Really? You like it rough? Who’d have thunk it,” Peter’s teasing laughter was cut off with a groan as Wade uncurled a hand from his hip and moved it directly over Peter’s only lightly covered cock. </p><p>He was fully hard now, a willing length straining to meet Wade’s fingers. He curled his digits around the outside of the fabric and Peter placed his hands at Wade’s shoulders, looking down between them to watch.</p><p>“You like that baby boy?” Wade gave an experimental stroke and Peter’s dick pulsed under the ministration.</p><p>“Fuck,” Peter breathed. </p><p>“Seems like you do,” Wade continued to move his hand, slow, almost teasingly. Peter could already feel a wetness starting to leak from his tip. He’d be embarrassed at how turned on he was if he wasn’t seated on top of a man he was sure really wouldn’t mind. </p><p>Wade’s other hand reached between them, finding the zipper of the hoodie Peter was wearing and dragged it down, “As much as I enjoy you in my clothes,” Wade told him softly, “This needs to go.” </p><p>Peter shrugged the jumper off his shoulders; careful to neither pull at his side nor dislodge Wade’s hand from the steady slide he’d slipped into. </p><p>“Better?” Peter asked, his voice not undisturbed from the position they were in. </p><p>“Not perfect,” Wade told him honestly, fingers coming up to trace the line of the bandage covering most of Peter’s skin from his chest down. </p><p>Peter scoffed at him, “Greedy?” </p><p>“You have no idea baby boy,” Wade murmured, mouth seeking Peter’s out again as he run his palm down the younger man’s covered torso till his fingers were back skating along the length of his cock. His hand faltered as Peter tried to gain more contact, “You don’t think we’ve missed a step or two in this whole process Web’s?” </p><p>Peter’s breath hitched as his hips keened up into the press of Wade’s hand, “You are joking right? <em>You</em> think we’re moving too fast?” </p><p>Wade shrugged underneath him, he was fixedly staring at a point over Peter’s shoulder when he stated flatly, “It’s going to hurt more if you change your mind after rather than now -”</p><p>Peter kissed Wade as hard as he could. He clutched at the back of his neck, tilting his head up so he could force his tongue as far as possible into Wade’s mouth, he pressed the line of his body down along Wade’s trying to create as much physical contact between their two bodies as possible. </p><p>He kissed Wade until they were both panting for air, pleased with the hand clutched back in his hair forcing him closer. Peter was tracing his own hands down Wade’s broad chest, his fingers curling into the bottom of Wade’s shirt. He felt Wade disengage from his mouth as he began to lift the material, “Don’t you fucking dare think of protesting,” Peter all but growled at him. </p><p>Whether it was his original plan or not Peter couldn’t tell, but Wade shifted them forward enough so he could help Peter tug his shirt over his head, tossing it away. He immediately pulled Peter back against him and Peter groaned. Wade sitting straight had Peter’s cock pressed up against his stomach and the light attention it had received before was now nowhere near enough. </p><p>“What do you want?” Wade asked him casually, “Me to touch you again?”</p><p>Peter huffed, “Well it’s going to be really embarrassing if I come all over you without even your hands on me.”</p><p>Peter saw the flicker of mischief through Wade’s eyes as the merc clearly contemplated making Peter do just that and was very grateful when the man decided against that plan.</p><p>This time. </p><p>“Stand up,” Wade said even as he was sliding Peter off his legs. </p><p>Peter stood, careful to keep his face composed as his healing body gave a twinge. There was a pain in his side, noticeable but not unmanageable. It was more of a thrum of pressure than anything. It was almost good in a way. It kept Peter grounded – he could feel that this was happening. </p><p>He watched, avid, as Wade tucked a hand into his boxers and dragged the material down. Peter let the fabric fall to the ground and stepped out of the underwear as Wade pulled him back onto his lap. He wanted to raise a protest - Wade was clearly still wearing too many clothes - but Wade’s strong hand curling around his now bare cock had the words disappearing before they even formed. </p><p>“Fuck you’re perfect kid,” Wade told him, Peter tilted his hips trying to encourage Wade to move his hand, “bloody amazing Spidey,” Wade pressed his lips under Peter’s chin, “so many times I wanted -, and now -” </p><p>“You’re not doing an awful lot for someone whose thought about this constantly,” Peter stated, the impatience in his voice evident.</p><p>Wade laughed into his neck, “I’m savouring.” </p><p>Peter tried to move his hips again, the warm digits curled around his length good but not the friction he wanted, “Savour later. Use your hand to fuckin’ get me off now.” </p><p>“You not going to ask nicely?” Wade all but pouted.</p><p>“Make me,” Peter countered. </p><p>Wade’s lips were back on his, teeth nipping at him when Peter didn’t automatically open his mouth for him. Wade squeezed his hand and the involuntary sound Peter made instantly gave Wade the access he wanted. </p><p>He began to move his hand, ensuring every up and down motion he’d cover the entire length of Peter’s cock. His slow pace soon gave way to something more urgent as Peter bucked into him. Wade’s deft fingers teasing around his head bringing him closer to the edge only to slide down and curl around the base to stave him off. </p><p>Peter was breathing heavily, erratically, into Wade’s mouth. Wade’s tongue teasing his own out of his mouth and then chasing it when Peter withdrew even the slightest amount. </p><p>Wade’s pace was proficient now and Peter could feel his control slipping further and further away. “Wade...” was all Peter managed in way of caution. </p><p>“Peter?” Wade responded with a grin - Peter hated how he could possibly look so pleased with himself, his scattered brain attempting to try and say something that would cause Wade’s expression to reflect at least half of the loss of restraint he currently felt. </p><p>Peter didn’t get the chance. While he’d been distracted in Wade’s face he hadn’t noticed as the older man had deftly undone his jeans, untucking his own hard and weeping cock. </p><p>Peter gasped in surprise when he felt the other hard length being pressed against his own. Wade’s hand stretching to wrap around both of them as far as he could -</p><p>The sight had Peter’s neck snapping back, pleasure ripping through his body as he came all over Wade with a rough shout. </p><p> </p><p>*-*-*-*</p><p> </p><p>Peter’s mouth was back on him, followed swiftly by his hands. Long deft fingers feeling their way up his chest, coming to clutch around his shoulders. </p><p>“You good Webs?” Wade murmured against the younger man.</p><p>Peter was nodding against him. </p><p>[Good? He’s only naked in your lap -]</p><p>{His come is literally coating your hand -}</p><p>Wade bucked when he felt Peter’s wandering hand suddenly squeezing around his still hard cock. The skin slick from a mixture of his own pre-come and Spidey’s actual -</p><p>[Jesus, what deal with what devil did you make to end up in this position?]</p><p>{Fuck it if that matters. We are far from finished here}</p><p>Peter pressed around him again, <em>damn </em>- he was good at that. His teeth were biting into his own lip as he studied the man beneath him. </p><p>“Something you like Spidey?” </p><p>“You’re big,” Peter stated, his voice had Wade shuddering. </p><p>[<em>Jesus</em>. Be careful kid he’s going to jump you yet]</p><p>{Just fucking take him} </p><p>Peter’s eyes were hooded, the effects of their activities were apparent against their skin but Wade could already see Peter’s excitement returning. Wade wasn’t sure if it was a youth thing or a superpower thing - </p><p>“So you going to fuck me or not?” </p><p>Considering the circumstances Wade had been trying to behave himself - really he had - but a man could only take so much. </p><p>[Bedroom. Bed. Now]</p><p>{Any horizontal surface would do}</p><p>Wade clutched a secure hold around Peter’s ass as he stood up. Peter going with the movement, legs wrapping around Wade’s waist easily.</p><p>[Don’t hurt him]</p><p>{He can fucking take it}</p><p>The way Peter’s thighs tightened their hold around him was only encouragement. </p><p>Wade wasn’t sure how he managed to carry the younger man to the bedroom without crashing into at least twenty things. He’d be impressed with himself if he didn’t have more important things on his mind - or more accurately, attached to his body. </p><p>He dropped Peter onto his bed, a spark of uncertainty flickered through him as all of Peter’s air seemed to leave him in an <em>oomph</em> - but it was quickly squandered has deft fingers reached for him and dragged him forward by the ridge of his jeans. </p><p>Peter’s nimble hands finished unfastening what was left of the clasp of Wade’s pants and he pushed at the material, sliding it down Wade’s thighs as he pulled the man down to him. </p><p>Wade met Peter’s eager mouth, his body lining up with the smaller one below him, pressing him into his mattress -</p><p>“You alright Webs?”</p><p>“You ever going to stop asking me that you moron?” Wade could feel Peter’s grin pressed against his skin. </p><p>“Maybe when you’re not wrapped up like a burrito.”</p><p>“Later today then.” </p><p>Wade scoffed, “Your optimism is off the charts.”</p><p>[Unlikely]</p><p>{I’m sure the kid knows his own capabilities. Then you won’t have that need to be gentle -}</p><p>[Your behaviour should not be condoned]</p><p>“What aren’t we condoning?” </p><p>“Shit Webs - sorry - it slips out, ignore the fuckery that doesn’t make sense -”</p><p>Peter’s hands were around his neck, tilting his face back towards his, “No.” </p><p>Wade groaned into him, pressing his mouth to him once more before sliding down his body. Peter wiggled himself further back onto the bed, stretching himself back brazen against Wade’s mussed up sheets. </p><p>When Wade’s face grew level with the dip of Peter’s pelvis he smirked. The boy was nearly fully hard again. Wade glanced back up to Peter who had his bottom lip between his teeth, staring down at Wade with dark eyes. Wade wrapped a hand solidly around each side of Peter’s hips, pinning him to the bed and watched, as his eyes grew even keener.</p><p>Wade liked to think he waited for Peter’s nod before curling his tongue around the tip of his cock. </p><p>“Fuck, Wade - <em>yes</em>.”</p><p>[Restraint isn’t in your vocabulary]</p><p>{Doesn’t seem like that matters right the fuck now}</p><p>Right where you want to be.</p><p>Wade sunk his way down on Peter’s cock, cheeks hollowing around the hard length. He kept his grip tight on Peter’s waist as he felt the boy’s body immediately try and thrust further into him. He mouthed his way up and down Peter’s length, saliva gathering quickly as he bobbed his head. </p><p>Wade glanced Peter’s fists, clutched tight in the sheets as his head was thrown back incapable of watching Wade work. Wade released his hold on Peter’s hip with one hand, reaching out for Peter’s clenched fingers. Peter relinquished his hold as soon as he felt Wade’s questing digits, flipping up his palm and grasping onto Wade as tight as he had the sheet seconds before. </p><p>He was looking at him now, eagerness in his gaze as Wade pulled back from his dripping cock with an obscene slurping sound. </p><p>Wade grinned when Peter laughed at him, “Charming.” </p><p>His grin didn't falter as he leant back down. He swiped his tongue around Peters hard length, following the tempting skin down to the root and further. He licked at his heavy balls, feeling Peter twist and squirm in his hold, Wade's hands coming back to his hips to raise him.<br/>
<br/>
He felt Peter falter -<br/>
<br/>
[Could it have anything to do with your tongue inside his ass?]<br/>
<br/>
{That fucking glorious behind it is -}<br/>
<br/>
- Hands coming to clutch at his shoulders more securely than before. Wade gently ran his tongue around and in a couple more turns before pulling back enough so he could fully see the boy staring down hungrily at him. However, another emotion had begun to cloud Peter's gaze, try as the boy might to hide it.<br/>
<br/>
{What the fuck do you think you're stopping for}<br/>
<br/>
[Argh. He's being 'responsible']<br/>
<br/>
Wade ran his hands up and down the firm thighs beneath his grasp. Feeling the strength there marred only by the slight shake that had developed from Peter's effort of keeping himself elevated. An act under normal circumstances that Peter - <em>Spider-Man</em> - should have been able to hold for countless time.<br/>
<br/>
Wade raised himself, ignoring the protest immediately starting to fly to Peter's mouth, and slunk up the bed. Coming to rest with his head level with the younger man's, mouth seeking to quiet him.<br/>
<br/>
"You're in pain Webs," Wade murmured into the lips beneath his.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm fine -" Peter started, arms raising to push at Wade.<br/>
<br/>
Wade caught both Peter's wrists as the boy attempted to flip him onto his back, he could feel Spidey’s strength but knew there was a hindrance there, even if the young hero wouldn't admit to it. Very carefully Wade used his knee to nudge at Peter's injured side, and as light a press as it was, there was an audible intake of air as Peter's instincts had him flinching away.<br/>
<br/>
{Way to ruin all the fun}<br/>
<br/>
Wade continued to press his mouth into Peter's skin, as he continued to explain himself, "You ever done this before Webs?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not a virgin," Peter stated, that defensive lilt back to his tone.<br/>
<br/>
[I think that was made abundantly clear -]<br/>
<br/>
{When you rutted yourself against us on the couch}<br/>
<br/>
Wade hid his smirk by continuing to lavish his way into the curve of Peter's neck, "Let me be more specific for you Spider-butt. Have you ever had anyone rail your ass like I plan on doing?"<br/>
<br/>
Wade could feel the heat of Peter’s skin amplifying, it was intoxicating. He waited for an answer, surprisingly patient, hands skimming softly up and down Peter’s uninjured side. "No," Peter eventually muttered, "But -"<br/>
<br/>
Peter went with the kiss Wade pressed into him. Wade was grateful that he could already feel Peter's body relaxing, the shudder from their efforts fading.<br/>
<br/>
He raised himself to hover over the smaller body beside him, "It's not going to be a quick easy and done, Pete. I want to take my time with you. I have many plans on how I'm going to have you falling apart - getting you completely wrecked - because of me," Wade felt Peter shudder, "But the last thing I want is you going to pieces for all the wrong reasons. I've waited this long. I can wait a little longer to get it right."<br/>
<br/>
Peter huffed, "How have you become the reasonable one in this situation?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I am the adult here." Wade ducked as Peter swatted for him. "Are you going anywhere Webs?"<br/>
<br/>
[Could you sound any more vulnerable]<br/>
<br/>
{Maybe don't give him options}<br/>
<br/>
Peter ran a hand under Wade's chin, tilting his head up to ensure he was looking right into Wade's eyes, "Course I'm not."<br/>
<br/>
Wade couldn't help but grin down at him softly, "Then there's no rush."<br/>
<br/>
Peter rolled his eyes, but Wade could see the resignation settling there. He tried his best to stay still as Peter trailed his fingers around his face, lightly tracing the line of his cheekbone and then his jaw. There was a frown tugging at the centre of his brow.<br/>
<br/>
"Webs?" Wade nudged him, cautious at the intense gaze upon him.<br/>
<br/>
{Now you're just inviting trouble}<br/>
<br/>
"We're idiots," Peter stated fairly.<br/>
<br/>
Wade laughed down at him, "For any particular reason?"<br/>
<br/>
"We had to wait till I got shot to come to our senses?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe it's better this way." Wade told him seriously. "I won't wear you out all at once. Gives you something to look forward to."<br/>
<br/>
Peter scoffed, "That opinion of yourself is quite high. You think wearing me out is going to he easy?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll stand by my claim."<br/>
<br/>
Peter leaned up to catch Wade's mouth languidly.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure... You haven't even -" Peter motioned down the length of their bodies to the place where Wade's still very prominent erection was on display.<br/>
<br/>
Wade's grin was wide as he slowly lowered his body down to drag along Peter's, "Now baby boy," he intoned darkly, "I didn't say we'd be doing nothing."<br/>
<br/>
Peter's willingness was evident as he pulled Wade down on top of him.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>*-*-*-*</p><p> </p><p>Peter was tucked along Wade’s side, enjoying the soothing feeling of Wade’s fingers lazily trailing up and down his spine. Quite content to stay in bed with the man for as long as possible - until the city needed them, or more likely hunger won out. </p><p>A thought seemed to strike Wade, fingers coming to a pause on Peter’s hip, “Hey, shouldn’t you be in school?”</p><p>Peter scoffed, “I got shot yesterday. You don’t think I deserve one day of rest and recuperation."</p><p>Wade sniggered, "Nothing we have done all day can be defined as that."</p><p>"I won’t tell if you don’t."</p><p>"I’m sorry Webs are you under the impression I’m keeping this information quiet, na-uh, you’re out of luck kid. I’m going to be screaming it from rooftops -"</p><p>"You are not -”</p><p>"Attention all: Spider-Man loves dick -”</p><p>“You can’t say that -”</p><p>“Will be taking it up the ass like a real hero -”</p><p>“Think of the children -”</p><p>“That fucking perfect behind is just as great as you can imagine.”</p><p>Peter’s body was shaking as he tried to hide his laughter tucked into Wade’s side, legs twined with the other man’s it was hard to pretend to be serious. </p><p>“And he’s all mine,” Wade finished quietly into Peter’s hair. </p><p>Peter leaned up Wade’s body, grinning as he pressed his lips against Wade’s, “Alright, <em>that </em>you can tell people.”</p><p>After happily returning Peter’s kiss Wade reached to his bedside table, coming back with a distinct front-page newspaper article clutched in his hand. “You know what Petey, I think we already did.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Very short Epilogue to follow</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Would you stop fussing?” Peter told him sternly. He and Wade were both in the elevator of the Avengers Tower, quickly rising through floors. Peter had the garbage bag that contained his ruined Spider Suit swung over a shoulder and was watching as Wade seemed to itch in his own skin.</p><p>“Nope. I can’t. Spidey, I’m sorry. There will be fussing. And there will be fidgeting. Because I’m relatively sure I’m about to be murdered by the fucking Avengers and I didn’t even bring<em> one</em> sword.”</p><p>Peter sighed, “I told you, you didn’t have to come.”</p><p>“Yeah, and that involved letting you leave my sight and this very, <em>very, </em>agreeable delirium might have disappeared along with you.”</p><p>Peter was shaking his head at him, “God, I’m already sick of you.”</p><p>“Really?” Wade asked far too quickly to be considered secure.</p><p>Peter huffed a laugh. “No,” he told the other man unnecessarily, leaning into his side, face tilted up until he got what he wanted.</p><p>Wade bent down the minimal amount required and allowed his mouth to meet Peter’s. The thought of a teasing peck vanished and Peter kissed him hard, mouth opening under Wade’s and his tongue seeking contact.</p><p>He showed a lot more restraint than Wade felt when he pulled away. Wade’s hand had fisted in Peter’s shirt and he had a blunt vision of pushing the smaller man up against the elevator wall, pinning him there, taking him apart –</p><p>“We probably shouldn’t be doing that the first time they meet you.”</p><p>Comprehension filtered across Wade’s face as he realised he’d said more than he thought out loud. “Thought you said they already presumed we were dating. Doesn’t that come with certain other presumptions?” Wade’s grin was almost a leer.</p><p>Peter removed the look from his face with another kiss and he sniggered into his mouth. Wade shot him a curious look.</p><p>“I’m just very grateful that you heal as well as you do.”</p><p>“In this situation, that is very far from comforting, baby boy.”</p><p>“I reckon you’ll go mere minutes before saying something inappropriate -”</p><p>“I know how to hold my tongue -”</p><p>“And Tony’s going to blast you out a window -”</p><p>“You said he <em>wouldn’t -</em>”</p><p>Peter sighed despairingly, “It’s probably going to be something about my ass, isn’t it?”</p><p>“Because it’s so <em>fucking perfect</em>.”</p><p>Wade reached for him, grabbing him by said appendage and hoisted him closer.</p><p>“Yep,” Peter continued solemnly, his eyes full of laughter, “You’re screwed.”</p><p>Wade released him reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop. Before the doors opened a mechanical voice sounded from above and Wade looked around widely as if searching for an oncoming attack.</p><p>“I feel it a sense of duty to advise you Mr Parker that all current on-world Avengers are present in the tower.”</p><p>Peter laughed, “Thanks FRIDAY. So Tony skipped indifferent and went straight for melodramatic?”</p><p>“You know him well Sir.”</p><p>The doors began to open and Peter laughed, throwing Wade a questioning look as the older man tugged at his arm, moving him to a more frontward position, “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Oh I’m completely in love with you and all that <em>but </em>I have no reserves in this moment about using you as a human shield.”</p><p>Peter refrained from punching him, grabbed his hand, and dragged him forward. Seeing Deadpool squirm was a spectacle to witness.</p><p>He knew he could talk Tony into anything. He knew Steve would always respect him. He also knew he had an acclaimed assassin and shrewd trickster ready to back him if he needed them.</p><p>But where would be the fun in telling Wade any of that?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I cut myself off because these two are addictive to write and I felt like I could have rambled on aimlessly forever. So there could be more stories in the future? If anyone has any thoughts or possible prompts maybe fling them my way? Have a fair bit of spare time at the moment so you never know</p><p>I cannot thank you all enough for reading and I do hope you enjoyed! Thank you for all your responses. Comments/kudos are, as always, greatly appreciated.</p><p>Love ♥</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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